


The Greatest Treasure

by anoradh



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe, M/M, Romance, Space Pirates, Treasure Hunting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-05
Updated: 2012-12-05
Packaged: 2017-11-20 10:03:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/584162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoradh/pseuds/anoradh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU based on the Disney movie <i>Treasure Planet</i>, which in turn is based on R.L. Stevenson's <i>Treasure Island</i>. </p>
<p>Ever since he was a little boy, Castiel has known that he is destined for adventure. When a dying man gives him a map to the fabled Treasure Planet, it seems that destiny is about to be fulfilled.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Greatest Treasure

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2012 Supernatural Reverse Bang Challenge .
> 
> A big thank you to my lovely beta [sylvia-locust](http://sylvia-locust.livejournal.com/) and the amazing [Terra](http://terrorinyertub.livejournal.com/), who is the artist behind the beautiful art that inspired this fic. You can find her art [here](http://terrorinyertub.livejournal.com/8187.html), so go tell her how beautiful it is.
> 
> Because my real life has been far busier than I'd anticipated, I haven't had as much time as I would like have liked to spend on this story. I feel that especially the ending could use more work, so I intend to go back and improve what I can. Therefore, if you're planning on reading this story, be aware that parts of it may change. 
> 
> **An additional warning:** I have been made aware that the way in which I write the relationship between Dean and Castiel, as well as my portrayal of the characters, can be seen as problematic. I'm not sure how to put it, other than to say that Dean is rather horrible to Cas and Cas is far too forgiving, possibly to the point of acting without self-respect. It isn't how I see their relationship, it isn't what I would call a healthy relationship and it certainly wasn't how I'd meant to portray it. I'm trying to think how I can change it, but until I've found a way and the time to do a rewrite, I want any potential readers to be aware of the problem, so that no one else is made to feel uncomfortable by it. My apologies.
> 
> LiveJournal masterpost can be found [here](http://anoradh.livejournal.com/17068.html).
> 
>  
> 
>   
> 

When Castiel was a small child, he always loved stories. His mother would buy him book after book and he would devour them all greedily and repeatedly, with undiminishing delight. Late at night, long after everyone else had gone to sleep, he would lie awake and allow the pages of the holobooks to transport him to distant worlds. Safely hidden underneath his blankets, he would take part in epic battles, navigate treacherous solar flares and explore the secrets of the universe. When he finally fell asleep, the wonders of those adventures would shape his dreams and he would wake every morning filled with determination that some day, he would make them all come true.

Castiel’s favorite story was the one about the infamous pirate Captain Lucifer Morningstar. Captain Morningstar was once the most dreaded pirate in all the Etherium. He and his band of bloodthirsty space buccaneers travelled from planet to planet, looting and pillaging a thousand worlds. They were the stuff of nightmare to any merchant ship captain that worked his trade in the galaxy, and with good reason. Captain Morningstar’s ship, The Pale Horseman, could appear at any time, without any warning, and swoop down on its unsuspecting victim. Showing no mercy, the space pirates would gather up the loot and vanish as suddenly as they had appeared. No one knew whence they came or where they went. Rumor had it that there was a hidden planet, somewhere on the outskirts of the galaxy, where Captain Morningstar amassed his unimaginable riches: Treasure Planet. Most people believed that it was just a legend, but Castiel knew differently. He knew that one day, he would be the one to find Treasure Planet.

*****

None of this explains, however, why, shortly before his eighteenth birthday, Castiel finds himself once again standing in the doorway of his mother’s inn, flanked by two robot constables, facing his mother’s disappointed glare and a room full of gawking guests. Doing his best to avoid his mother’s narrowed eyes, Castiel tries to move away from the nearest robot constable, but he is prevented by a steely grip on his shoulder.

“Not so fast,” the constable says. He turns to Castiel’s mother. “Mrs Harvelle.”

Ellen sighs and puts down the tray she’s holding. Behind her, Castiel’s sister Jo and their cousin Gabriel are whispering to each other and making sympathetic faces at Castiel.

“Yes?” Ellen asks wearily. “Let me guess. You caught him solar surfing in the quarry again, didn’t you?”

It’s not really a question. After all, it’s not the first time that this has happened. Whenever Castiel feels the need to get away and be alone for a while, he takes his home-built solar surfer and flies, until his restlessness is lost in the joy of the open sky. He’s a good flier - an excellent flier, in fact - and he takes full advantage of that, as he performs dangerous moves that would make his mother lock him in his room for the rest of his life, should she witness them. Unfortunately, his favorite obstacle course runs straight through a quarry that’s closed to the public and there are times when he is too caught up in his flying to remember not to be caught.

“That is correct, ma'am,” the other constable says.

Ellen rolls her eyes and shakes her head, glaring at Castiel. “I see,” she says. “Well, it won’t happen again.”

The first constable releases Castiel’s shoulder. “I am sure it will,” he says. “Be aware that this is his final warning. We have impounded his vehicle. The next time that he is caught trespassing in a restricted area, he will be arrested and sent to juvenile hall.”

The other constable makes a stiff bow. “Have a good day,” he says. He and his colleague turn on the spot and roll out through the open door.

After they’ve left, everything goes perfectly silent. It is as if the world is reduced to the staring contest taking place between mother and son. Ellen has her hands on her hips and is watching Castiel with hard, reproachful eyes. Castiel’s head is lowered, his dark, windswept hair falling over his eyes, but he keeps his gaze unrepentant. He knows only too well what will happen if he shows any signs of relenting. Finally, Ellen sighs again and shakes her head.

“Go help your sister clear the tables!” she tells him. “I will deal with you later.”

Her words seem to work as some sort of signal and the crowded inn is once again filled with noise. The guests return to their meals, chattering excitedly and throwing not-so-discreet glances at Castiel, as he accepts a bus tub from Jo and quietly begins gathering up dirty dishes.

*****

Ellen's inn is called The Roadhouse. The name is misleading, because there aren't really any roads nearby. At least none worthy of the name. The Roadhouse is located on the outskirts of a small seaside town on the mining planet of Montressor. It is not a very busy town; there are no big quarries nearby, only the small one where Castiel was caught earlier. They don’t get many visitors from out of town, since not many people have reason to pass through, but they get enough business from the locals for the family to live fairly comfortably. 

The inn once belonged to Ellen’s husband Bill, but when he went off into space, he left it to her. She manages it well, but it hasn’t been easy, taking care of the inn and raising two children on her own. Gabriel, Castiel's older cousin from town, came to live with them permanently a couple of years ago, after his parents died, and he's helped relieve some of her burden, but obviously, he's had his own issues to deal with. Castiel tries to help his mother as best he can, as does Jo, but he knows that lately, he’s mostly been adding to her worries. He doesn’t want to and he never means to. It never used to be that way, before. When they were small children, playing together, Jo was the obstinate one and Gabriel was the troublemaker. Castiel was always the obedient child. That was before everything changed.

***** 

Castiel is sitting on the low roof outside his bedroom window, staring out across the vast, open space that stretches out beyond the town's small pier. It's late afternoon and the sunshine of the morning is hidden behind a curtain of heavy clouds. The approaching twilight is painting the world grey. Castiel almost feels as if it's trying to reflect his own mood.

His mother cornered him earlier, as she had promised, but instead of the lecture that Castiel had been expecting, she wanted to talk. It isn't her usual style. Ellen has always made it abundantly clear that she loves her children more than anything, but she does it through her actions, not her words. If she is upset with them, she makes that clear too and while she has no problems using words for that, they aren't often spoken in the calm, concerned tones that she used with Castiel earlier.

Unfortunately, in this instance, talking proved useless. Their conversation ended in an argument, which ended with Castiel slamming the door behind him. Unlike his mother and sister, Castiel is slow to anger, but at those rare occasions when he loses his temper, he holds nothing back. Of course, he's always filled with remorse afterwards, but he's never been good at saying 'sorry'. That's why he's currently hiding on the roof.

Castiel knows that his mother just wants to understand, so she can help. He wishes that he could explain to her what he is going through, but he can't even explain it to himself. He just feels as if there's this hole inside him and no matter how hard he tries to fill it, it just keeps growing. A part of him fears that one day, it will end up consuming him. He knows that part of it is this place, that he doesn't belong here; his fate awaits elsewhere. The trouble is that he doesn't know if he'll ever be able to leave. After all that his mother has been through, he doesn't know if he can make her lose her son, too. And therein lies the source of his despair. 

When someone climbs out the window behind him, Castiel does not bother turning around. He knows who it is. There's only one person in Castiel's life who has never learned to respect his privacy when he makes it known that he wants to be left alone. Sure enough, a moment later, Gabriel comes to sit beside him.

“What's up, coz?” 

Castiel continues to stare in front of him and takes no notice of Gabriel. He knows better than to hope that this will make Gabriel leave him alone, but he really doesn't feel like talking any more. 

Gabriel sighs. “Look,” he says, “she'll get over it. You aren't the first teenager to cause their parents grief, you know. Personally, I think that solar surfing through a near-abandoned quarry seems pretty harmless. I'm almost disappointed in you. I'd have expected more from my cousin.”

At this, Castiel can't resist rolling his eyes, but he still doesn't reply. He hears Gabriel sigh again, but thankfully, he remains silent. Gabriel may not be willing to leave Castiel alone to lick his wounds in private, but contrary to what most people think, he usually does know when to shut up. Whether he chooses to do so is a whole other question. For some reason, he is usually willing to make the effort for Castiel.

They sit for a long while in a silence that may not be companionable, but at least isn't awkward. Castiel has no idea what Gabriel is thinking, but he is too deeply lost in his own gloomy mind to care. Another window is open, this one located in the roof beside him and leading into the dining room. It's nearly empty now that most of the guests have gone home. Ellen is refilling a glass for Mr. Singer, an old friend of Castiel's father and a regular patron of the inn, and Castiel hears him say,

“How are you holding up, Ellen?”

Castiel can't see his mother's face, but he can picture her forced smile, as she replies, “Me? I'm fine, Bobby.”

Mr Singer makes a sceptical noise. “Of course you are,” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “And I'm sure that whole lunch theater business earlier was just your son having some harmless fun. Again. Nothing to worry about. After all, most young men are escorted home by robot constables on a regular basis.”

There is a moment of silence, then Ellen pulls out the chair opposite Mr Singer's and sinks down onto it wearily. “I don't know what to do,” she confesses somewhat desperately. “I've tried everything. I've tried talking, yelling, threatening, pleading. Nothing seems to get through to him. He just won't let me help him and it's killing me.” She pauses, as if to draw a breath. When she speaks again, her voice sounds calmer. “He wasn't always like this, you know.”

“I know,” Mr Singer says. “I remember.”

“He was the sweetest little boy,” Ellen continues, as if she didn't hear him. “A little serious, perhaps, and a little quiet, at least around others. Not with me. He'd follow me around wherever I went, always happy to help. Jo was more independent, always wanting to go outside to play or running off into town to see her cousin. The number of times she just disappeared... I thought she'd be the death of me. I never dreamed it'd be my sweet Castiel who would end up breaking my heart.”

“Ellen.” Mr Singer's voice is quiet, as if he doesn't know what to say. Castiel doesn't blame him. There really isn't much he can say.

Ellen pays no attention, the words spilling forth from her as from a broken dam. “I just wish he'd talk to me, tell me what's on his mind. He's such a clever boy, Bobby, you have no idea. He built his first solar surfer when he was eight. Oh, he was so proud! And then his father left...” Her voice cracks and she has to wait a moment, before she can continue. “Something happened to him that day, Bobby. He's been slipping through my fingers ever since. I think he blames himself, somehow, although how he could think that it was his fault, I have no idea. He has no friends, he's failing in school, he keeps getting arrested and whenever he's home, he's always up in his room or on the roof. I know Gabriel's tried reaching him too, but Castiel won't talk to him either. The only time he really smiles is when he's with Jo and I think it's only to make her smile.”

She grows silent and Castiel is horrified to hear her sniffle and blow her nose. Ellen never cries. It's one of the things that he's always admired most about her, how nothing seems to break her. Nothing, it seems, but him. Mr Singer is talking, saying something about giving him time, but Castiel stops listening. Instead he pulls his legs up against his chest and buries his face in his knees. He can't remember ever feeling this miserable, and that's saying something. Gabriel is still sitting beside him, a warm, silent presence. Castiel has no idea what he's thinking, but he's grateful that Gabriel doesn't try to cheer him up or comfort him. He thinks he deserves to feel this miserable. 

They sit up there for a long time. Castiel loses track of how long. All he knows is that there is less light trickling in through the cracks between his arms and legs. The heavy clouds finally begin to release their burden and large, cold raindrops fall on his head and back, trickling down his neck and underneath his collar. Only his face, hidden in his folded arms, remains dry.

A gentle hand falls on his shoulder. “Castiel!”

Castiel refuses to move. He wants wallow out here a while longer.

The hand grips his shoulder and shakes him, hard. “Cas!”

Castiel makes a noise of protest. “Just leave me alone, Gabriel!” he says, his voice muffled. 

“No!” Gabriel says and shakes him again. “Look!”

Castiel raises his head. Gabriel is pointing at the sky. Castiel looks in that direction and completely forgets how worthless his entire existence is. A ship is approaching, descending too quickly out of the darkening grey sky. How it's still flying, Castiel has no idea. The mast is half-broken and the sails are torn. The engine keeps dying and sputtering back to life with a sudden burst of flames out of the exhaust. The round metal hull is barely holding together and it leaves a thick trail of smoke behind as it approaches one of the town's small piers. 

Castiel and Gabriel barely have time to exchange a quick glance before they're on their feet and jumping off the roof. Castiel follows hot on Gabriel's heels as they run towards the piers. They are barely halfway there when the ship finally crashes onto the pier with a loud clanging noise. The two boys put on an extra burst of speed and reach the ship, just as the door to the cabin flies open.

A huge shadow fills the frame of the open door, looming threateningly over the boys. They unconsciously move closer together as they stare up at the stranger. He is tall and dark, with a bald head and eyes that look nearly black. The expression of his face recalls the thunderclouds above. Castiel feels Gabriel straighten slightly, as if summoning his courage, before he speaks,

“Hey,” he says, “are you okay, mister?”

His question is answered when the man suddenly takes a stumbling step forward, clutching his side with one hand and a large chest with his other. The way he more or less falls onto Gabriel demonstrates clearly that no, he is most certainly not okay. Throwing a helpless glance at Castiel, Gabriel grabs hold of the man, supporting him from one side, while Castiel supports him from the other. Together, they half walk, half drag him up the narrow path to the door of the inn.

While they're walking, the man keeps muttering beneath his breath. Castiel can only catch a few words. He hears something about a one-legged man, a band of buccaneers and the sound of metal. The man is also muttering about his chest and something about a word. None of it makes much sense, but then, the man's head is bleeding, so he obviously hit it against something hard. 

Leaning forward, Castiel exchanges a worried look with Gabriel. 

“We should probably get a doctor,” Gabriel says. “Can you get him inside on your own?”

Castiel nods and helps shift the man's weight, so that he is leaning fully on Castiel. 

“Hurry,” he tells Gabriel. Gabriel nods and sets off back down the path towards the town.

Somehow, Castiel and the injured man make it to and through the door to the inn. The moment they cross the threshold, however, the man's strength completely gives out. The man tumbles to the floor and Castiel is helpless to do anything but try to soften his fall.

“Castiel!” His mother is on him in matter of moments, closely followed by Mr Singer. “What...?”

“His ship crashed onto the pier,” Castiel says. “He's injured. Gabriel's gone to get the doctor.” He glances down at the man, who is struggling to pull his chest closer to his body, and speaks more quietly, so the man won't hear him. “I think there may be something wrong with his head.”

His mother and Mr Singer both stare down at the man, clearly unsure what to do. Then his mother springs into action.

“Jo!” she calls. “Joanna Beth!”

There is a thundering of footsteps down the stairs and Jo appears, looking annoyed. Her expression changes into one of surprise when she sees the man on the floor.

“Who's that?”

Ellen disregards the question.

“Go heat some water,” she says, “and bring it out here. And get my first aid kit, too, will you?”

Jo opens her mouth to speak, but her mother gives her a hard look and she closes it again. As she turns to head back up the stairs, her eyes catch Castiel's and he knows that there will be a full interrogation later.

“Boy.”

The rasping voice makes Castiel jump. He looks down at the injured man and finds that the man is looking back at him. Hesitantly, Castiel kneels beside him.

“Yes?”

The man makes a wet, choking sound and begins to cough. Castiel wants to help, but there is nothing that he can do. He can only watch and wait, until the man is able to speak again. Ellen has got some napkins from one of the dining room cupboards and is examining one of the man's wounds with Mr Singer's help. The wound looks deep, but the man ignores it and the people tending to it, as he stares up at Castiel.

“My... my chest,” he gets out between coughs, his fingers grabbing uselessly at one of its handles. “Help me. My chest. ”

Castiel reaches out and helps the man pull the chest closer. He watches as the man punches a code into the lock mechanism and the lid flies open. To his surprise, the chest is nearly empty. A thin layer of coins barely cover the bottom. On top of them lies a square object wrapped in cloth.

“He'll be coming after me,” the man gasps, reaching inside the chest to take out the square object. “He wants this, but he can't have it.” He grabs Castiel's arm and pulls him closer. “Do you hear me, boy? _He – can't – have – it._ ” 

Castiel automatically accepts the item that the man pushes into his arms. 

“What is this?” he asks. “Who can't have it? Who's coming?”

The man coughs again and blood trickles from the corner of his mouth. When he finally lies back, his eyes are closed and his face is eerily calm.

“The cyborg,” he says, so silently that Castiel almost doesn't hear him. “Watch out for the cyborg!”

With that, he finally stops breathing. Mr Singer puts a finger to his pulse and, at Ellen's questioning look, shakes his head sadly. Castiel feels paralysed with horror. He has never seen a man die before. Ellen and Mr Singer get to their feet and Ellen comes over to run a soft hand through Castiel's hair.

“You okay, honey?” she asks.

Castiel nods.

“You sure?”

Castiel nods again. His mother nods, too, but she doesn't stop running her fingers through his hair. Not that Castiel wants her to. He even leans into her a bit, finding comfort in her touch and the fact that for once, she isn't upset with him. 

“Want some hot chocolate?” she asks him. Her tone makes him think that he isn't the only to relish their closeness.

“Maybe later,” he says. 

An uncomfortable clearing of the throat reminds them of Mr Singer's presence.

“What's that he gave you, Castiel?” he asks.

Castiel starts slightly in surprise and looks down at the object that he's holding pressed to his chest. Somehow, he had almost forgotten that he had it.

“I don't know,” he says. “It feels like some sort of rock.”

Somewhat reluctantly, he moves away from his mother's touch and gets to his feet. His mother and Mr Singer follow him over to a table, on which he places the item. He is about to unwrap it, when there is the sound of footsteps running down the stairs.

“Mom, I've got the first aid...,” she begins to say, but she cuts herself off when she sees them standing by the table. Her eyes dart towards the door and they widen when she sees the body still lying on the floor. “No way!”

Ellen takes a step towards her, but stops when a rumbling noise rises, coming from somewhere above them. It sounds like a huge engine, coming nearer. It keeps growing louder and soon, there can be no mistaking it. A large ship is landing, just outside the inn. 

Without meaning to, Castiel finds himself looking over at Mr Singer. Meeting the man's worried gaze, he can tell that they are thinking of the same thing. The dying man's final warning. Castiel hurries to pick up the still wrapped item and stuff it inside the trench-coat he's wearing. He follows Mr Singer to one of the windows and the two of them peer carefully out through the blinds. Darkness has fallen completely, by now, and the heavy rain obscures their vision even more, but Castiel can make out the outline of a large sailing ship in the background and a large group of smaller shapes moving determinedly towards door. There is something strange about how the foremost figure moves, but Castiel does not allow himself to dwell on it. Instead, he leaps back and turns to his mother and sister.

“We've got to go,” he tells them.

Ellen looks like she's about to object, but Mr Singer silences her with a curt, “The boy is right. We'd better get out of here.”

Castiel grabs his mother's hand in one of his and his sister's hand in the other, pulling them towards the stairs. They have barely made it halfway up, when the blast from an energy weapon destroys the lock of the front door. Castiel is running first, with Jo and Ellen closely behind him and Mr Singer bringing up the rear. They run into the master bedroom, just as the sound of voices begins to rise from downstairs. Most of them are just an excited rumble, but one of them rises above the rest. It is a man's deep voice and it sounds upset.

Ellen is standing by the closed door and listening to the sound of destruction coming from below. There are crashes as of furniture being thrown over and drawers emptied. The smell of smoke is creeping in through the crack between the door and its frame. Ellen makes a pained noise and Jo walks over to put her arms around her mother.

“It'll be okay, mom,” she says, but her voice is choked. 

They can hear the men moving closer to the stairs. It won't be long before they reach the bedroom door and then they'll all be caught. There's nowhere left for them to run. Castiel looks around the room desperately. His eyes fall upon a large, heavy chest of drawers. Running over, he starts to push it towards the door. The others immediately catch on and run to help him. Together, they stack the furniture of the room against the door. It'll buy them some time – some, but not enough.

The only other way out of the room is through the window. Unfortunately, they are on the second floor and Castiel isn't sure they'll make the jump. Still, it's their only option. A broken leg is probably better than being caught by the ruffians downstairs. With that thought in mind, Castiel hurries over to fling the window open. What he sees nearly makes him fall through it.

Gabriel is sitting there in a large carriage with a soft hood. Doctor Murphy sits beside him, holding the reins. A pair of tortorses, large tortoise-like creatures that move as fast as the smaller motor-driven vehicles, wait in front of the carriage, moving impatiently in their harnesses. 

“Come on, then!” Doctor Murphy calls to Castiel. “Jump!”

Instead of obeying his command, Castiel turns back to the people in the room with him.

“Mom, Jo,” he says. “Come here!”

They all make the jump onto the carriage unharmed. Once they're settled enough not to risk falling off, Doctor Murphy urges on the tortorses and they set off at speed. Castiel sees his mother look back at the inn and he turns to follow her gaze. Flames are now climbing out of the windows and licking the walls. As they watch, the roof catches on fire and heavy black smoke rises towards the dark sky. Castiel tears his gaze away from the painful sight and turns to his mother. Ellen's jaws are clenched and he can tell that she is trying not to cry. Not knowing how else to comfort her, he leans against her and buries his face against her neck. On her other side, Jo does the same. Ellen puts one arm around either of her children and they leave behind the remains of the only home that Jo and Castiel have ever known.

*****

Doctor Murphy drops them off at Mr Singer's house on the other side of town. Castiel knows that Mr Singer is a widower and that he has lived alone for longer than Castiel has been alive, but he doesn't know much more about the man than that. Not many people do. Mr Singer is a very private man. He was a friend of Castiel's father, but it wasn't until after Bill Harvelle left that Mr Singer began his daily visits to the inn. When Castiel was younger, he thought the reason was that Mr Singer was in love with Ellen, but he has since discarded that theory. Nothing in the way that they treat each other speaks of anything but friendship. Instead, Castiel suspects that the reason that Mr Singer comes to the inn every day is to keep an eye on his friend's family. Why he should feel the need to do so, Castiel can't guess, but he can't deny that he's happy that Mr Singer was there tonight.

According to rumour, Mr Singer works as a historian. He is mapping the history of the Etherium, gathering stories and legends and writing them down. Castiel has often seen him talking to the other guests at the inn, both the people from town and those from other parts of the galaxy. It comes as no surprise, therefore, that Mr Singer's house is full of books, both holobooks and older ones made of paper. There are bookshelves on nearly every wall and piles of books everywhere. The rest of the house looks clean and tidy, but the scattered books give the impression of absolute chaos. Castiel doesn't have to look at his mother to sense her disapproval. He, on the other hand, loves it. If he could choose, this is what his house would look like.

Mr Singer leads them into his study, where naturally there are even more books. The walls here are covered in bookshelves and there is a huge pile, twice as tall as Castiel, stacked against two of the shelves. Mr Singer waits for Ellen and Jo to sit down on the big sofa before going to the kitchen to make them some tea. Gabriel sits down next to Ellen and Castiel sits down next to Jo. Jo is leaning her head on Ellen's shoulder, but she reaches out and takes Castiel's hand. He tries to smile at her, but he doesn't think he's successful. Instead, he squeezes her hand reassuringly.

“We saw them land as we were driving up the path,” Gabriel is saying. He's explaining to Ellen how he and Doctor Murphy came to be outside the window. “They looked like the kind of people that are best avoided. The doc was able to drive us around to the back of the house instead without them noticing. We were just trying to figure out how to get you out of there, when Cas stuck his head out the window. It was just a happy accident that we happened to be in the right place at the right time.”

Ellen gives Gabriel a one-armed hug, her other still wrapped around Jo.

“I'm just glad you found us,” she says.

“Mom,” Jo says weakly, “the inn...”

Ellen sighs heavily. 

“Yes,” she says. “The old Roadhouse.”

Mr Singer is walking back into the room, carrying a tray with five steaming mugs. 

“I just spoke to Sheriff Mills,” he says. “It seems that whoever those men were, they got away before she and her men had a chance to capture them. They were also very thorough in their destruction. I'm sorry, Ellen, but I'm afraid the Roadhouse is no more.”

Jo makes a choked, pained noise, but Ellen merely nods.

“I thought as much,” she says, accepting the mug that Mr Singer hands her.

Mr Singer hands Castiel his mug last and when he does, he doesn't let go immediately.

“So,” he says, “I'm hoping you were able to keep hold of that item the stranger gave you.”

Castiel blinks at him. Once again, he had forgotten about the item. He puts his mug down untouched and reaches into his trench-coat to take out the package. The others all lean forward slightly to watch, as he places it on the table in front of them. They all seem to be holding their breath, as Castiel unwraps the fabric to reveal the item that has already caused them so much sorrow.

It turns out to be a stone tablet, mostly rectangular in shape and covered in some strange writing. There is also an odd sign carved in the top left corner. It looks like a circle with a triangle on top. Inside the circle, there is something that could be a letter or could just be a sign, and there are what look like letters surrounding the circle. Castiel has no idea what it means.

“What the...?” Gabriel says. “ _That's_ what they were after? A piece of rock with some cryptic writing on it?”

“I imagine that the writing is somehow important,” Mr Singer says, examining the tablet closely.

“Do you have any idea what it means, Bobby?” Ellen asks.

Mr Singer shakes his head, looking bewildered.

“I don't even know what language that is,” he admits. “I've never seen anything like it. All I can say is that it looks ancient. They seem to be some sort of hieroglyphs or runes. I'll search in my books, but it could take me years to find anything.”

He reaches out to pick up the tablet, but Castiel stops him. He's been studying the tablet, too, and even though he can't explain it, he thinks he knows what it says.

“They're directions,” he says, “almost like a map.”

Four sets of eyes immediately move from the tablet to his face, each with the same expression of astonishment.

“You can read it?” Gabriel asks, sounding excited.

Castiel nods. 

“In a manner of speaking,” he says. It isn't exactly like reading. He doesn't really understand the individual words, but somehow, he can still decipher the message. It's like the words on the tablet are sending images into his head, which his brain then translates. He wouldn't know how to explain that, however, so he doesn't even bother to try. “It mentions the Magellanic Cloud, the Coral Galaxy, the Cygnus Cross and the Calyan Abyss.”

At least he thinks that's what it is. The final two images aren't as clear as the others.

“The Magellanic Cloud? The Cygnus Cross? The Calyan Abyss?” Mr Singer repeats. “But that would take us to the other side of the Etherium. Does it say what the map is for?”

Castiel doesn't answer. He needs to concentrate. The further into the text he gets, the more difficult it becomes to decipher. The images are mostly a blur now and he has to struggle to bring them into focus. When he finally does, he can't hold back a gasp. The final image is of a bizarre-looking planet surrounded by two rings. It's a familiar image. It's the image that has haunted his dreams since he was a little boy.

“Treasure Planet. They're directions for Treasure Planet.”

His announcement is met with silence. Then Gabriel begins to laugh.

“Good one, coz,” he says. “You almost had me there for a moment. So I guess you really can't read these squiggles? That's a let-down”

Ellen is shaking her head, looking disappointed. Jo is frowning at the tablet. Mr Singer, however, is watching Castiel with narrowed eyes.

“Is that it, Castiel?” he asks sternly. “Were you just joking?”

Castiel shakes his head, feeling indignant. How can his family think that he would make such a tasteless joke at a time like this?

“No,” he insists. “No, they really are directions for Treasure Planet. I swear it.” He turns to Ellen. “Mother, please, you have to believe me.”

Ellen just looks at him sadly. 

“I would like to,” she says, “but Treasure Planet, Castiel? You know that's just a legend. A story we read when you were a child. You're not a child anymore.”

Her words bring back the memory of what she said earlier that evening and suddenly, Castiel finds it difficult to breathe. If there is one thing that his mother should know about him, it's that he doesn't lie. He has never lied to her. Even when he doesn't know what to say to her, he prefers silence to a lie. 

“Mother,” he says weakly.

To his surprise, Mr Singer comes to his defence.

“Ellen, I really think that you should give the boy the benefit of the doubt. I believe he's telling the truth.”

Ellen stares at him as if he's lost his mind.

“The truth?” she asks. “Bobby, you can't be serious. Treasure Planet? That's Captain Lucifer Morningstar's hideout.”

“And it holds the loot of a thousand worlds, I know,” Mr Singer agrees. “But it's more than just a legend. My research has led me to believe that it's a real place and that it can be found...” He pauses, obviously for dramatic effect. “... beyond the Coral Galaxy and near the Calyan Abyss. Don't you see, Ellen? There's no way that the boy could have known that, so how do you explain that the place where he claims this... this _map_ would lead us is in the region where Treasure Planet is most likely to be found? It can't be mere coincidence.”

“But Bobby...”

“And if that's true,” Mr Singer continues, his voice rising and his cheeks flushed with excitement, “then that means that we have a chance of actually finding it. Imagine it, Ellen! All those treasures, all that history. All the answers that can be found there. The person who finds it would _make_ history!”

Castiel finds himself nodding along. Without realising it, he's stood up and is standing beside Mr Singer, grinning madly. He knows now what he has to do. Finally, he's discovered what it is. His destiny. It is what it's always been. 

“I'm going to find it,” he declares. “I'm going to find Treasure Planet.”

The effect isn't quite what he had hoped for. His mother flies to her feet and bears down on him with her eyes blazing.

“Oh no, you're not!” she says. “You are staying right here and finishing school. You are not going off on some mad adventure that will most likely get you killed! Forget it!”

“But mom,” Castiel protests.

“No!” Ellen says, actually stamping her foot. “I am not letting my boy go off alone into space. It is madness! Tell him, Bobby!”

Mr Singer has picked up the tablet and is looking at it reverently. At Ellen's appeal, he starts slightly and turns to look at Castiel.

“Absolutely,” he agrees. “Only an idjit would let the boy go off on his own.” 

Ellen looks satisfied. She gives Castiel a look to say that the discussion is over. Feeling utterly betrayed, Castiel opens his mouth to argue, but Mr Singer cuts him off.

“Which is, of course, why I'm going with him.”

Both Ellen and Castiel turn to stare at him and say in unison, “What?”

Mr Singer only grins and nods.

“You heard me. We're going off to find Treasure Planet.” He puts a hand on Castiel's shoulder. “I'm going to see if I can't find us a ship, preferably one with a captain and crew. I have some savings I can use. Hopefully, it won't take too long, so if there's anything you need to take with you, then you'd better get it quickly.”

“Hells yeah, there's something he's bringing,” Gabriel interrupts. “Me! No way am I letting my little coz go off into space without me. He'd either be lost within days or he'd lose himself in that emo head of his and forget to have fun. I'm definitely coming with you.”

“Gabriel,” Ellen protests weakly.

“I'm sorry, Aunt Ellen,” Gabriel says, walking over to kiss her cheek, “but I'm an adult, now. There's nothing you can do to stop me.”

Ellen sighs and shakes her head, then turns to Castiel with a determined look that he knows all too well.

“No,” she agrees, “but Castiel _isn't_ an adult and I _can_ stop him.”

“Only for a few more weeks,” Castiel protests. “I'll be eighteen next month.”

“Yes, you will,” Ellen agrees, “and you will be celebrating your birthday here on Montressor – with me and Jo. If Bobby and Gabriel want to go gallivanting off to the end of the universe, then that's their choice. I don't like it, but I can't do anything about it. But they'll have to do it without my baby boy.”

Castiel can't believe that his mother would do this to him. He can understand her concern, but surely, she must understand that keeping him here would drive him insane. 

“Ellen,” Mr Singer says quietly. “Can I talk to you? In private?”

Ellen glares at Castiel a moment longer, before nodding and following Mr Singer out of the room. When she's gone, Castiel sits down heavily on the sofa next to his sister.

“I can't believe that you thought mom was just going to let you run off into space,” Jo says, snorting with laughter. “What the hell, Cas? I thought you were supposed to be clever.”

Castiel just glares at her. Gabriel comes to sit on the armrest next to him. 

“I'll bring you back a gold doubloon,” he offers.

Castiel doesn't reply. Instead, he shoves Gabriel off the armrest. He has no patience for his cousin's jokes, not when he feels as if his entire destiny is crumbling before his eyes. He _knows_ that he's the one that's supposed to find Treasure Planet. How can he be thwarted by the fact that he was born just a few weeks too late?

It isn't long before Mr Singer and Ellen return to the room. Castiel's mother is looking sad, but resigned. She walks up to Castiel and pulls him into her arms.

“If anything were to happen to you,” she whispers, “I don't know what I'd do. You and Jo are my world, Castiel. Without you...”

Her voice cracks and she seems unable to continue. Castiel holds onto her, feeling torn between sympathy and hope. He doesn't want to cause his mother any more grief, doesn't want to add to her reasons for worrying about him, but if he doesn't get to do this, his life will lose all meaning.

“I have to do this, mom,” he whispers into her hair. “I can't stay here all my life. There's something waiting for me out there, I can feel it.”

Ellen lifts her head from his shoulder, so she can look him in the eyes. Her cheeks are wet, but she's smiling.

“I know, honey,” she says, caressing his hair. “That's why I've decided to let you go. You're like your father; you can't be caged. You need to fly free. My Castiel. My beautiful angel.”

“What?” 

The outraged exclamation makes them jump apart. Jo is standing in front of the sofa, looking furious.

“No,” she says. “No, no, no! No way! Mom! You can't seriously be telling me you're just going to let him go?”

Ellen takes a step towards her.

“Jo.”

“No!” Jo crosses her arms stubbornly. Castiel sighs. He recognises the gesture. Sure enough, “If he gets to go, then so do I.”

Ellen shakes her head.

“No,” she says.

“Why not?” 

“Because,” Ellen says, putting a hand on Jo's arm, “you're only thirteen. There'll be plenty of time for you to go travelling when you're older. This is Castiel's adventure. You'll find yours in time.”

Jo pouts angrily, but Castiel can see that she's not going to argue. They both know when it's useless. Once Ellen's made up her mind, nothing can sway her. Or so Castiel thought. He glances over at Mr Singer. The man obviously must have said something to make Castiel's mother change her mind. Why Mr Singer should care enough to speak to her on Castiel's behalf, Castiel can't guess, but he's certainly grateful. 

“Mr Singer,” he says, walking over to stand next to the man. Mr Singer raises a questioning eyebrow at him. “I just wanted to say thank you. You didn't have to...”

Mr Singer raises a hand to stop him. Castiel is glad. He isn't any better at saying 'thank you' than 'sorry.'

“I suspect that I did,” he says gruffly. “Maybe a few months of sailing in space will make you appreciate what you have here more. It's sure to make a man of you and make you stop all that sulking.” 

Castiel can think of nothing to say in response. He wasn't expecting that level of bluntness. 

“Oh, and one more thing,” Mr Singer says. “Since we'll be spending quite a lot of time together from now on, how about you call me Bobby?”

*****

As he promised, Bobby quickly finds them a ship with a captain and a crew that is willing to take them across the Etherium. He, Castiel and Gabriel all agree that the true destination of their journey should remain a secret between the three of them. If it became known that there is a map to Treasure Planet, there are more than a few people who would do anything necessary to get their hands on it. Besides, the dying man's warning still rings clearly in Castiel's ear and after what happened at the inn, he knows that there is already somebody who is looking for them: the cyborg.

Leaving his mother and sister isn't easy. As anxious as Castiel is to get away from the dull monotony of his everyday life, the idea of not seeing his family for so long is still painful. He has never spent more than a day away from his mother and he knows that he's going to miss both her and Jo. The fact that they'll probably spend most of their time apart worrying about him and Gabriel doesn't help. He wishes that there was some way for him to reassure them, but they are all aware of the dangers of space travel.

By the time they reach the spaceport Crescentia, however, his anxieties have been replaced by sheer excitement. Crescentia – named that way due to its crescent shape – is the nearest spaceport to Montressor and it takes them only a day's trip on the space ferry to get there. Castiel, who has spent his entire life in the small, quiet town where he was born, is almost overwhelmed by the chaos that greets him when he steps off the ferry. The houses on Crescentia are mostly built on or near the horns of the crescent, with the port and markets are located in between. It is a lovely sight with its many domes and archways, but not many travellers take the time to admire its beauty. The streets are full of sailors and merchants, and every moment ships arrive and depart. 

As he follows Gabriel and Bobby through a labyrinth of paths and walkways, he cannot help but stare at everything around him. It looks exactly like the images in his holobooks and he finds it hard to believe that he is actually there. Every moment, he fears that he will wake up and discover that it was all just another dream.

Bobby and Gabriel have stopped in front of him. They seem to be discussing which way to go. From what he can hear of their discussion, Castiel gathers that neither one seems to have any idea where their ship is anchored. Gabriel is pointing in one direction and Bobby is gesturing towards the other. Barely refraining from rolling his eyes, Castiel walks up to a robot that's busy sweeping the pavement. The robot is able to provide him with clear direction how to find the ship that they are looking for. Neither Bobby nor Gabriel notice him talking to the robot, because they both look astonished when Castiel strides past them, telling them confidently, “This way!”

The Crossroad King, as the ship is named, is a large, three-masted schooner. Even Bobby seems impressed when he sees her, if his low whistle is anything to go by. He leads the cousins up the lowered gangplank and onto a deck that's bustling with activity. There are crewmen up on the yards or climbing the ratlines; some are even hanging in the air on crates that are being loaded. 

A woman is standing by railing, overseeing the activities. She is young and pretty, with brown hair and dark eyes, but the way she holds herself speaks of authority. When she shouts out an order, the sailors hurry to obey. Bobby walks up behind her.

“Captain?” he says, his tone making the word a question.

The woman turns around. One of her dark eyebrows is raised and her lips are twisted in a crooked smile.

“Not me,” she says. “The captain is over there.”

She points at a man standing on the quarterdeck, talking to one of the sailors. He too has dark hair and eyes, and his face is currently looking rather red, as if he is having trouble suppressing some emotion. Judging by the sailor's cowering attitude, Castiel guesses it's rage.

“Crowley!” the woman shouts. “The _passengers_ have arrived.”

The captain finishes reprimanding the sailor, who returns to work with a sullen face, then makes his way down onto the main deck to join them. 

“So,” he drawls, “one of you is Mr Singer. I doubt it's either of the whelps, so that leaves you.” He gives Bobby a critical look. “I thought I made it clear that I don't do pleasure cruises. This isn't a family trip, so maybe you should have left the children at home.” 

“Hey!” Gabriel protests, as Castiel glares at the captain. “Watch who you call a child, buddy!”

The captain turns to face him. His gaze is as cool as ice and it makes Gabriel shift uncomfortably, but he still holds his ground, even when the captain steps forward into his personal space to stare down at him.

“Watch who you call 'buddy', _son_ ,” he says. “You may call me 'captain' or 'sir', and I will call you whatever I please. Is that clear, _boy_?”

Gabriel swallows and nods. It is a rare occasion when someone manages to silence Gabriel and Castiel can't help but feel reluctantly amused, even though he's still a bit indignant at being called a child. 

The captain takes a step back, looking satisfied. 

“Good,” he says. “Glad we got that settled. Now, allow me to introduce Ms Masters, my first officer. She keeps this ship running, although her methods may sometimes be... unconventional, shall we call them?”

Ms Masters smiles another of those crooked smiles.

“If you say so, Captain,” she says. 

“Pleasure, I'm sure,” Bobby says, though his dry tone contradicts him. “I'm Bobby Singer. This is Gabriel Harvelle and that's his cousin Castiel. Castiel may be young, but I can assure he is absolutely necessary for our... expedition. He's the only one who knows where we're going.”

Castiel forces himself to keep his face impassive, as both the captain and Ms Masters turn to look at him.

“I see,” the captain says. “Well, then, I suppose young Castiel had better join us in my state room, while we plot out our course.” 

He turns on his heels and starts to walk away. Castiel exchanges a look with Bobby and Gabriel, before following after the captain. 

*****

The state room turns out to be an elegantly decorated cabin. There is a large desk near one wall, a number of cabins along another and a large desk nailed to the centre of the floor. The captain goes to stand behind his desk, leaning against it with both hands. Ms Masters stands beside him with her arms crossed and an amused smile on her lips, as if she's expecting some sort of entertainment. 

The captain fixes Bobby with a stern look.

“If this trip is to be successful,” he says, “I will need to know our final destination.”

Castiel glances at Bobby. They agreed that their destination ought to remain secret, but they never really discussed whether or not they should let the captain in on that secret. Castiel doesn't think that they should. There is something about the captain and his first officer that makes Castiel reluctant to trust them. Fortunately, Bobby seems to feel the same.

“I told you, captain,” he says. “That's a secret. We will give you directions for you to follow, as per our agreement.”

The captain rolls his eyes.

“Do you have any idea how difficult it is to plan for a journey when you have no idea where you're going or when you will next be able to replenish your supplies?”

Bobby merely scoffs at this.

“The instructions I gave you are enough to help you plan our journey,” Bobby points out, “and you agreed to the terms.”

The captain doesn't look happy, but he has no choice but to concede. 

“Fine,” he says. “But someone is going to have to talk to our navigator and help him plot a course. I suppose the obvious choice would be young Castiel, but that would perhaps draw unwanted attention to the fact that he is apparently the only one who knows where we're going. Not to impugn your judgement, Mr Singer, but this crew that you hired seems less than trustworthy.”

Bobby nods thoughtfully.

“You may have a point,” he says.

“I'll do it,” Gabriel says. “I aced my astrography course. Cas can let me know where we need to go.”

“Very well,” the captain agrees. “Ms Masters will take to you to Mr Winchester. As for young Castiel, we still need to find something for him to do. As I said, I won't have idle hands on my ship.” He thinks for a moment. “I think I know just thing. Ms Masters, after you've introduced Mr Harvelle to the younger Mr Winchester, you should take his cousin to the galley. I'm sure the older Winchester can find something for him to do.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.” Ms Masters gives him a lazy sort of salute and walks over to the door. She opens it and gestures at the cousins to walk through. “After you.”

****

Castiel waits on the main deck, while Ms Masters leads Gabriel onto the quarterdeck. He can see them walk up to a giant of a man, with whom Gabriel shakes hands. Ms Masters tells the giant something, which makes him frown, but he nods. He turns to Gabriel and the two of them begin talking to each other. Ms Masters leaves them and walks back down to Castiel.

“This way,” she says and leads him over to a door, behind which are the stairs that lead down to the galley. A man is standing there among the pots and pans, obviously busy with preparing a meal for the crew. His right side is facing them, so Castiel can only see his profile, but he can tell that the man is young. He doesn't seem to be much older than Gabriel, which would put him in his early twenties. From what Castiel can tell, he also seems to be quite good-looking. 

“Winchester,” Ms Masters calls to him. “I've got someone here to meet.”

The man finishes chopping up the vegetables he's working on, then turns to face them. Castiel was obviously right in his assessment. He is young, maybe five years older than Castiel himself, and he is exceptionally handsome. He's more handsome than anyone Castiel has ever met, but that isn't the reason why Castiel has to stifle a gasp. At some point in his life, the man must obviously have lost both his left arm and leg. As is usual in such cases, the missing limbs have been replaced with ones of metal and mechanics – cybernetic limbs. The man is a cyborg. 

If the man notices Castiel's reaction, he doesn't say anything. Instead, he walks over to them with a gait that seems to stir something in Castiel's memory. He thinks back on the night when his mother's inn was attacked. The man who led the attackers had moved in the same manner.

Seemingly oblivious to Castiel's suspicious stare, the man grins at him. 

“And who might you be?” he asks Castiel, giving him an obvious once-over. If Castiel didn't know better, he would almost say that the man's tone sounded flirtatious. 

Ms Masters answers for him, slinging an arm around his shoulders and pushing him forward towards the man.

“This is Mr Harvelle,” she says. “The captain has sent him to help you out in the galley. Wasn't that nice of him?”

The grin slips off the man's face and he frowns at Ms Masters. 

“Now hold on just a minute,” he says. “I don't need any...”

“Captain's orders, Winchester,” Ms Masters interrupts. “Now get to it. Chop-chop!”

She smirks and winks as Castiel, before turning and heading back up the stairs. Both Castiel and the man watch her leave. When she is gone, the man sighs and grimaces. 

“Awesome,” he says. “But whatever. Can't very well argue with the captain. We don't want to start a mutiny, now, do we?”

He grins again. Castiel doesn't smile, but simply regards him quietly. The man's grin begins to slip again.

“Right,” he says. “So, Mr Harvelle, huh? Got any other name?”

“Castiel.”

The man blinks at him.

“Castiel?” he repeats. When Castiel nods, he raises. “Okay, Cas it is. And you can call me Dean. Now, Cas, why don't you start peeling those vegetables over there? I've a feeling the crew is beginning to feel hungry.”

Castiel steps up to the counter that Dean indicated, on which he finds a pile of vegetables and a knife. When he tries to pick up the knife, however, it slips out of his grasp and rises into the air in front of him. As Castiel watches in astonishment, it changes shape and colour, turning into a pink, bloblike creature that stares at Castiel's with huge, round eyes.

“Um,” Castiel says, unsure how to react.

Dean turns around from where he's been stirring one of the pots. When he sees the creature, his face lights up.

“Morphy,” he exclaims, “there you are. I was wondering where you'd gone off to.”

The creature gives off a sound like a purr and whizzes over to nuzzle Dean's face affectionately. Dean laughs and swats at it playfully. 

“Alright, alright,” he says. “That's enough.”

“What is that?” Castiel asks. He's never seen anything like it.

Dean beams at him. Beside him, the creature turns into a smaller replica of Dean. 

“He's Morph,” Dean says. “He's a shape-shifter. I rescued him during one of our travels and he's stayed with me since. Haven't you, Morphy?”

The creature replies by nuzzling his cheek again. It looks rather funny to see the tiny version of Dean nuzzle the large one and against his will, and Castiel smiles. He's beginning to think that Dean can't have been the cyborg that the dying man mentioned who destroyed the inn. Dean seems too open and too friendly. 

It does seem like a rather strange coincidence, however, to find a cyborg on board this particular ship. Castiel needs to be sure.

“You're a cyborg,” he says. The change of topic may seem rather abrupt, but then Gabriel is always telling him that tact isn't his strong suit.

Dean looks over at him with an eyebrow raised.

“I met a man once,” Castiel continues, “back home. On Montressor. He was a big, black man with a bald head. I never caught his name. He mentioned a cyborg.” Dean is still just looking at him, his expression unchanged. “I thought maybe it was you.”

Dean gives a small chuckle, still petting Morphy, who has turned back into a pink blob and is twisting and purring happily under Dean's hands.

“It's possible, I guess,” Dean says. “I mean, that description you gave is kind of vague. Doesn't sound like any buddy of mine, though, so I doubt it. Plenty more cyborgs in space.”

Castiel nods. Dean could be lying, but without proof, there isn't much that Castiel can do. He'll simply have to keep his eyes open.

They work in silence for a while, Dean only breaking it from time to time to tell Castiel what to do. After a while, they hear Ms Masters' voice from up on the deck.

“Everything's ready, captain! Crew, prepare to cast off.”

Castiel wishes he could be up on deck to watch as the ship leaves the spaceport behind. It's a moment that he's been dreaming of all his life. The captain ordered him to stay in the galley, however, and he doesn't dare disobey orders. Apparently, his eagerness is still easy to read.

“Go on,” Dean says, smiling indulgently. “I've got this. Go watch the launch!”

Castiel throws him a grateful glance and races up the stairs. 

*****

The launch is smooth and just as magnificent as Castiel could have hoped. He hangs over the railing and watches as Crescentia grows smaller behind them. His heart pounds with excitement. This is finally it. He's finally going off into space. All those adventures that he dreamed about as a small boy are about to come true.

He's so distracted, trying to take in everything around him, that he doesn't hear the footsteps behind him. A hand lands on his shoulder, making him jump and spin around to find Dean standing behind him.

“It's something, isn't it?” he asks. 

Castiel nods. A large group of huge fishlike creatures are swimming near the ship. They gleam white against the dark space behind them.

“Space whales,” Dean says, following his gaze. “At least that's what I call them. Sammy could probably tell you their real name.”

A jet of greenish goo suddenly erupts out of one of the space whales, like a sickly volcano. Even though the space whale is too far from the ship for any of it to hit Castiel, he flinches. Dean laughs.

“Yeah,” he says. “They do that sometimes. I'm sure Sam could tell you about that, too.”

“Sam?” Castiel asks, distractedly. 

“My brother,” Dean says. Castiel turns around to see him pointing at the giant helmsman. “He's the science geek of the family. Always curious about how and why things work the way they do. Me, I find it enough just to know what they do.”

Castiel nods again, but he isn't really paying attention. Gabriel is standing next to Sam, obviously talking his ear off. Sam looks rather pained, but he doesn't tell Gabriel to shut up. Castiel admires his patience.

“Have you been space sailors for long?” Castiel asks.

Dean shrugs.

“Pretty much all our lives,” he says. “Dad was a sailor and when mom died, he brought us along on his travels. We've been all over the Etherium. I always loved it, but Sammy hated it. He wanted a 'home'.” Dean pronounces the word as if he finds it ridiculous. “I tried to tell him that the ship was our home, but he could never see that. As soon as he was old enough, he went off to university. It was only after dad died that he began travelling again. Guess he realised that we Winchesters were never meant to have our feet on solid ground for very long. Sailing's what we're best at. “

“But you're a cook,” Castiel points out, “not a sailor. Or are you going to tell me that you steer the ship from below deck?”

Dean turns back to him and points a finger between his eyes.

“Damn straight I do,” he says. “Where do you think this ship would be if there was no one to keep the men's bellies full? The galley's the most important part of the ship and don't you forget it. A hungry sailor is a useless sailor.” He takes a few steps backwards and reaches for something behind one of the masts. “And a dirty ship is a disgrace. Get to it!” He hands Castiel a mop and a bucket, then grins and disappears down into the galley again.

*****

Over the next few days, Castiel becomes acquainted with most of the other crew members. It is not an entirely pleasant experience. Dean continues to be friendly and his brother Sam turns out to be both nice and interesting to talk to, but the rest of the crew members are less pleasant. Some of them, like the ship's gunner Mr Walker, seem merely coldly disinterested, but others are outright hostile. 

Castiel's first encounter with one of the latter occurs on his first evening on board. He is almost done swabbing the deck, aided by Dean's shape-shifter pet Morphy. Morphy's help consists mostly of keeping Castiel company, but the little creature is amusing and he keeps Castiel from becoming too bored. Darkness is already falling when Castiel finally puts down the mop and stands back to inspect his own handiwork.

“What do you think, Morphy?” he asks his small friend. “Do you think Dean will find it adequate?”

Morphy immediately shifts into his imitation of Dean and echoes,

“Adequate, adequate.”

Castiel smiles and reaches out to pet him. It feels strange when Morphy is in this shape, especially since Morphy immediately begins purring and nuzzling up against Castiel's face, the way he did with Dean earlier. Still, Castiel doesn't exactly mind. He feels strangely gratified that Morphy has taken to him so quickly.

“Shall we go and tell him?” he asks. 

Morphy immediately turns back into his own shape and zooms away in the direction of the galley. Castiel moves to follow him, but finds his path blocked by a group of crew members who are standing near the door to the galley and talking quietly among themselves. They don't notice Castiel until he's nearly among them and then they quickly grow silent. Castiel can't help but find their behaviour suspicious, but he ignores them and begins to walk past them. Before he can reach the stairs to the galley, however, one of the men stops him by grabbing his arm. 

“Listening in our conversation, were you?” he asks.

Castiel shakes his head and tries to pull his arm out of the man's grip.

“No.”

The man doesn't release him. His face looks fairly ordinary, just like the men back home, but his eyes are different. They look almost yellow in the fading light.

“Liar,” he breathes softly. “Cabin boys should mind their own business. I think maybe we need to teach you that.”

The rest of the group hisses and laughs, but Castiel ignores them. He can easily tell that they're just minions and the man who spoke to him is their leader. The man's face is calm, but his hand on Castiel's arm is still enough to send a frisson of fear down Castiel's spine. There is something about those yellow eyes that speak of cruelty and malice.

“I wasn't listening,” he says. “I was just going to the galley. Leave me alone!”

The man's smirk doesn't reach his eyes. He pulls Castiel closer, so that his putrid breath washes over Castiel's face. Castiel wrinkles his nose and tries to turn his head away, but Azazel's face follows him. 

“I don't think so,” he says. “I think...”

But Castiel never learns what he thinks, because at that moment, he is interrupted by a cybernetic hand grabbing his wrist. A wave of relief washes over Castiel to see Dean standing there, glaring at the crewmen. 

“What's going on here?” he asks sternly.

No one answers. Dean's grip on the yellowed-eyed man's arm tightens, until the man lets out a cry of pain and lets go of Castiel's arm.

“Azazel?” Dean demands.

Azazel opens his mouth to speak, but is interrupted again, this time by a female voice.

“Mr Winchester. Mr Azazel. Is there a problem here?”

Ms Masters has come to stand beside Castiel with her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed. For such a small woman, she has an immense presence and she is somehow able to loom over men that are a head taller than her. Azazel looks at her and she meets his stare without flinching. After a long moment, Azazel is the first to look away. He lets go of Castiel's arm.

“No, ma’am,” he says. “No problem at all.”

Ms Masters turns to look questioningly at Dean. Dean grins, but Castiel can tell that it's fake.

“No problem,” he confirms. “I was just coming to check on my cabin boy. Castiel?”

Castiel frowns at him. Something feels off, but he can't put his finger on it. It has something to do with how Azazel looks at Dean. He shrugs it off for now.

“I'm finished,” he says. “The deck is as clean as I can make it.”

Dean nods.

“Very well,” he says. “I'll need to inspect it, of course. You can wait for me down in the galley. Ms Masters.”

He bows at the first officer, who gives them all a suspicious glare and walks away. Castiel wants to stay with Dean, but Dean gives him a stern look and Castiel does as he was told. Before he goes below deck, he sees Ms Masters walk back towards the quarterdeck, where the captain is waiting for her. Turning back, he also sees that Dean and the other crewmen seem to be having a rather intense discussion. Castiel frowns at them for a few moments, before sighing and going down into the galley.

*****

Time on board the ship passes quickly. Castiel thinks that is has something to do with the fact that he is always busy. From the moment he wakes up to the moment he goes to sleep, Dean makes sure that he has something to do. Most of the time, he's helping Dean down in the galley, but at least once a week, Dean has him swabbing the deck. Dean claims that it's because no one has the time and they need to keep the ship clean, both for practical reasons, such as hygiene, and to keep up appearances. Castiel suspects, however, that there is a third reason, namely that Dean likes to see him suffer. 

Swabbing the deck is hard work and despite all the time that he has spent helping his mother at the inn, Castiel is unused to such physical labour. It always puts him into a bad mood, which isn't improved by the fact that Dean likes to sit around with a bottle in his hand and watch Castiel work, pointing out imaginary spots that Castiel has missed. For some reason, Dean's presence has a strange effect on Castiel. His limbs stop obeying him and he becomes much clumsier than usual, constantly fumbling and stumbling. It's embarrassing and Castiel doesn't want to embarrass himself in front of Dean. He has come to admire Dean and he feels the most ridiculous need to impress him. Obviously, that isn't going to happen while he keeps acting like a gawky teenager. 

Fortunately, Dean doesn't seem to notice his mortification. Whenever Castiel does something stupid, Dean simply laughs and teases him good-naturedly. He'll then proceed to help Castiel clean up whatever mess he's created, all the while grousing about how good help is so hard to find and how he has to do everything himself.

Because they spend almost every waking moment together, Castiel and Dean end up talking about a lot of things. Dean tells Castiel a bit about his travels, although he is careful never to reveal too much about himself or his past. Castiel hasn't forgotten the dying man's warning and he is reminded of it every time that Dean waves off one of Castiel's more personal questions. It always puts a heavy lump in Castiel's stomach and he usually tries to ignore his suspicions. He doesn't want Dean to be _that_ cyborg and so he tells himself that Dean can't be. 

Because Dean obviously doesn't want to tell Castiel too much about himself and because any conversation they have about Dean ends with Castiel feeling as if someone has put a stone in his chest, they usually end up talking about Castiel instead. In return for those tiny glimpses of Dean's life, Castiel finds himself telling Dean everything. He tells him about his childhood on Montressor, with all the stories that he read and all the adventures he dreamed of. He tells him about his mother and Jo, and how they're waiting for him back home. He tells him about Gabriel and how he came to live with them. He even talks about his father. 

Castiel has never liked talking about his father, even though his father is never far from his thoughts. He used to believe that it was because those thoughts were too private, but now he's beginning to suspect that it was simply because he had no one to talk to. He couldn't talk to his mother, for fear of opening up old wounds. The few times that he breached the topic with her, she looked so sad that Castiel couldn't bring himself to ask any more questions. He couldn't talk to Jo, because Jo was too young when their father left to really remember him. She may have some vague memories of him, but his leaving didn't affect her the way that it did Castiel. As for Gabriel, he's been through enough with losing his own parents. It would hardly seem right for Castiel to complain to him, when Gabriel has lost so much more than Castiel.

With Dean, however, there are no such concerns. Somewhat surprisingly, Dean is very good listener. He doesn't say much, but the way that he simply allows Castiel to unload all his thoughts, all his anger and all his feelings of guilt and insufficiency on him is more than enough. All his life, Castiel has blamed himself for his father leaving. He has always felt that if he had been a better son, someone that his father could feel proud of and would want to spend time with, then maybe his father wouldn't have left. If only Castiel hadn't been so boring, so caught up in his own fantasies, maybe Bill would have felt that he had a reason to stick around. It's left him feeling worthless and convinced that he is undeserving of anyone's interest. 

Dean is making him re-evaluate those convictions, not as other people would, with empty words and reassurances, but through his actions. He treats Castiel as a friend, even when he treats him as his own personal slave, and he never shows any indications that he is weary of Castiel's company. Although he isn't the most patient of teachers, he still makes an effort to teach Castiel about life on board a ship and he seems pleased with how easily Castiel picks things up. He shows Castiel around the ship and teaches him to perform different tasks, even ones that aren't technically part of their duties. Whenever he takes the longboat out to buy supplies on some nearby planet, he takes Castiel with him and introduces him to many different cultures. 

On some of those trips, he asks Castiel to fly the longboat. Castiel always eagerly accepts. He loves flying and he's good at it. It's one of the few things that he does better than Dean and he's always happy for the opportunity to show Dean that he's not entirely useless.

*****

“So who taught you how to fly?” Dean asks.

He's half lying in the bow of the longboat, watching as Castiel steers it back towards the Crossroad King. They've been to nearby planet, buying supplies. Castiel may have been showing off slightly, just to make Dean grin at him in that way he does whenever Castiel does something to surprise and impress him.

“My father,” Castiel says, “before he left. He was great at it. The best. When I was little, he'd take me with him sometimes. It was the only time we really spent together. As soon as I was big enough, he let me steer the boat. After he left... It was all I had left of him. It's the only thing I've ever been really good at.”

Dean snorts.

“Hardly the only thing,” he says. 

Castiel loves the way he says it. It's not the same way that his mother or Gabriel says it. When they say it, it sounds comforting, like they're trying to reassure him. When Dean says it, it just sounds matter-of-fact, as if it's something so obvious that it barely needs saying. Dean never tries to coddle him or treat him as a child. He treats Castiel almost as an equal and it always makes something swell in Castiel's chest, like a hot-air balloon that could carry him into the sky.

“Back home, it was my way of escaping,” he confides. “Unfortunately, it was also what always got me into trouble.”

Dean laughs. 

“You, a troublemaker?” he says. “I find that hard to believe. Not good little Castiel.”

He leans forward and ruffles Castiel's hair. Castiel glares at him and amends his own thoughts. Dean _almost_ never treats him as a child.

“Better than you,” he says. “Bet you couldn't do this.”

He accelerates quickly, while performing a complicated manoeuvre with the longboat that has Dean shouting with laughter and gripping the railing, so he won't fall out. Only when they're flying alongside the Crossroad King does he slow down again.

“Fine,” Dean grumbles, but he's still smiling. “Frickin' show-off.”

There's a warmth in his eyes when he looks at Castiel that's apparently contagious. It spreads through Castiel's body, from his chest to his limbs, until he's almost feeling too hot. Unable to stand it any longer, he bows his head to break their gaze. Instead he concentrates on getting the longboat back into the ship's hold, through the opening in the ship's hull. He and Dean help each other secure it before climbing out. 

Just then, the ship rocks violently. Castiel, who is halfway out of the longboat, loses his balance and falls forward, right into Dean, who's waiting on the small ledge beside the longboat. Dean's arms fly up to catch him and Castiel finds himself with his face buried in Dean's chest and Dean's arms around him. He can feel his cheeks flaming as he pushes himself away, muttering an embarrassed, “Sorry!”

Dean's grinning wryly.

“Don't worry about it!” he says. 

The ship rocks again, and Dean and Castiel instinctively reach out to steady each other. Dean frowns.

“I may have spoken too soon,” he says. “Maybe we should be worried. What the hell is going on?”

With his hand still gripping Castiel's arm, he drags Castiel up the stairs to the main deck. The sight that greets them is cause for more than just worry. The star that's closest to them looks to be about to explode. Burning light moves outwards in circular waves, spreading to the air around it, which hits the ship and causes it to rock violently. Bobby and Crowley are both standing by the railing. Dean and Castiel run up to them in time to hear Bobby say,

“It's the star Pellucid! It's gone supernova!”

“Mr Winchester!” Crowley roars. “Evasive action!”

“Aye, Captain!” Sam calls back.

He's obviously struggling with the helm. The ship has been caught in the gravitational field of the collapsing star and they are being pulled in. Sam does his best to turn the ship around, but it is resisting all his efforts. Finally, Gabriel moves up beside him and grips the helm too. Together, they're able to wrench it around.

“All hands,” Ms Masters shouts, “secure your lifelines!”

The crew rush to comply, running to the main mast. A number of ropes is tied to it and the crew takes these ropes and ties the other ends around their waists. By now, the sky around them is a deep red, like the colour of blood. Leaning over the railing, Castiel watches in horror as the star finally explodes. A huge tidal wave of pure flame and burning rock rises up behind them, chasing them in their wake. Some smaller pieces of burning rock catch up with them and tear through the sails.

“Meg! Secure those sails!” Crowley shouts. 

“You heard him!” Ms Masters calls to the crew. “Secure all solar sails!”

Castiel carefully makes his way out onto the narrow bowsprit to secure the staysail. Dean is behind him, moving more slowly with his cybernetic leg. Castiel has almost reached the luff of the sail, when he hears a shout. Spinning around, he sees that one of the rocks has cut through Dean's lifeline. Dean is flailing madly, having lost his balance. His eyes lock with Castiel's and the terror in them paralyses Castiel. Then Dean is falling, his feet slipping off the narrow beam. 

“Dean!”

Castiel throws himself forward, heedless of his own danger. He manages to get a hold of the end of Dean's lifeline. Using all his strength, he manages to pull Dean back, until Dean's hands get a grip on the bowsprit and he can pull himself up. Trembling with residual fear and adrenaline, they both crawl back onto the deck and Castiel doesn't even think about it as he clings to Dean, so relieved not to have lost him. Dean is breathing heavily, but his arm is strong and steady around Castiel's shoulder.

“Thanks, Cas,” he says gruffly into Castiel's ear. 

Castiel just nods and squeezes Dean's waist with his arm, unable to get any words past the tightness in his throat.

“Captain!” Crewman Brady's voice sounds almost panicked, calling down from the crow's nest. “Captain! Behind us!”

Castiel and Dean both get to their feet and run to the railing. Leaning out, they look towards the stern of the ship. A huge, burning rock is approaching too quickly for them to escape it. It's bigger than the ship and if it crashes into them, there will be nothing left of the ship. 

“Mr Walker!” Ms Masters shouts to the crewman manning the laser cannons. “Blast it out of the sky!”

Mr Walker fires a number of rapid shots at it, but they are too weak to do much damage. The entire crew seem frozen in fear as they watch this boulder of death come ever nearer. Then suddenly, it stops. Instead of closing in on them, it seems to be moving away, backwards towards whence it came. 

“Captain!” Brady calls again, sounding no less panicked. “The star! Look at the star!”

Castiel hears Bobby curse loudly. 

“It's collapsing!” he shouts. “It's turning into a black hole!”

The pull on the ship becomes stronger and it begins rocking from side to side, as Sam and Gabriel use their combined to strength to keep it on course. It's obvious to everyone that they're fighting a losing battle. 

“Captain!” Sam shouts. “We can't hold her. We're being pulled in.”

“Don't give up now, Mr Winchester,” Crowley calls back, “or we'll all be lost.”

Sam's reply is cut off when a large wave hits the ship, and he and Gabriel have to focus all their energy on keeping the helm steady. Crowley lets out a loud and inventive string of curses.

“Blast these sodding waves!” he cries. “They're too erratic.”

Bobby has been studying the ship's radar.

“I don't think they are,” he yells. “There seems to be a pattern. Come here, Crowley, and look at this!”

Crowley hurries over to Bobby and Castiel watches them both lean over the radar screen, obviously discussing something eagerly. A grin spreads over the captain's face and to Castiel's great surprise – and Bobby's, too, by the looks of it – he grabs Bobby's face and places a sloppy kiss on his cheek. He then turns around, surveying the ship and clearly looking for someone. His eyes fall on Ms Masters, walking towards him from the bow of the ship.

“Ms Masters,” he calls to her, “I assume all the sails are secured.”

“Every one of them, Captain,” Ms Masters confirms.

“Very good, Ms Masters! Now release them.”

Ms Masters jaw seems to hit the deck. Castiel really can't blame her, as he too stares at the captain in disbelief. 

“Release them?”

It's the first time that Castiel has heard her forget to use the proper address. She sounds almost hopeful, as if expecting the captain to tell her that he was just joking or that she heard him wrong. Unfortunately, her hope is all in vain.

“Is there an echo here?” Crowley asks. “Yes, release them, Ms Masters. And quickly. We don't have much time.”

Ms Masters frowns and opens her mouth, but a look from the captain silences her. She shrugs and says, “Aye, aye, Captain!” before turning to the crew. “You heard him, you lazy maggots! Release the solar sails!”

There is a lot of grumbling among the crew and for a moment, Castiel fears that they aren't going to obey, but they quickly move into action. He sees Ms Masters rushing to help them, climbing nimbly up the ratlines. Then he hears the captain call to him, “Young Mr Harvelle!”

Castiel looks up at him. 

“Yes, captain?”

“Make sure the lifelines are all secure! I'd hate to have one of them come loose just now.”

“Aye, aye, captain!”

Castiel hurries over to the main mast. He checks the lifelines by pulling each and every one of them, making sure they're all good and tight. They are all securely tied to the mast and he tells Crowley so. 

“Very good, Mr Harvelle!” Crowley calls back. “Everybody, hang on. Mr Winchester, I trust you are ready?”

“Ready, captain!” Sam calls back. 

He is standing at the helm, looking determined. Gabriel hovers beside him. Castiel recognises the mingled look of terror and excitement on his face, and he wonders what madness they have planned.

“Captain!” Bobby calls. “The final wave!”

Without Castiel noticing, Dean has moved up behind him. He pushes Castiel up against the mast and presses himself protectively against Castiel's back, so that they are both holding on tightly to the mast. The rest of the crew brace themselves as best they can, as the ship falls helplessly down into the black hole. Everything seems to go silent, as if the entire Etherium is holding its breath. Castiel cannot move, caught between the mast and Dean's solid body. All he can do is stand there and wait for what feels like an eternity. He can feel Dean's chest moving against his back with breath the other man takes and he closes his eyes, focusing on that steadying sensation. 

Suddenly, the space around them seems to erupt in an explosion of light, coming from within the black hole. Castiel's eyes fly open as Dean presses even closer to him. Out of the corner of his eye, Castiel sees the explosion grow bigger and bigger, until its force pushes the ship before it out of the black hole. There are some startled cries from the crew. Dean curses quietly into Castiel's ear, but doesn't let go of him or the mast. Then, finally, the ship slows down and begins to sail more steadily.

After several long moments, Dean carefully moves backwards, still without releasing Castiel, and casts a glance over his shoulder. Apparently, whatever he sees reassures him that the danger is over, because he grins and steps back fully. To his surprise, Castiel finds himself missing his warmth at his back. 

“That was some fancy sailing, there, Sammy!” Dean calls to his brother. 

Sam merely grins at him from behind the helm. Gabriel rises to his feet beside him, apparently having been thrown to the deck at some point. He looks shaken and dishevelled. Sam looks at him and laughs, reaching out to ruffle his hair even more.

“Indeed,” the captain says, a rare note of admiration in his voice. “Not bad, Mr Winchester! Not bad at all.”

“Thank you, Captain!” Sam replies.

“Everyone accounted for, Ms Masters?” the captain asks. He gets no answer. “Ms Masters?”

Azazel appears at his side. His head is lowered, but his yellow eyes glow maliciously.

“I'm afraid Ms Masters didn't quite make it, Captain,” he says with an exaggerated note of regret in his voice. “Her lifeline seems to have come loose.”

Crowley looks shocked for a moment. Then he turns to stare at Castiel, who feels the bottom drop out of his stomach. He checked those lifelines, every last one of them. He knows he did.

“I...,” he says. “No! No, I checked them all.” 

He turns back to the mast and checks the lifelines again, counting them again and again. Eventually, he is forced to accept the evidence of his eyes. Ms Masters lifeline isn't there. 

“I did,” he says numbly. “I swear I did. They were all secure.”

“Clearly,” Crowley says coolly, “not all of them.” He bows his head and bites his lip for moment. When he raises his head again there is a hard look on his face. “Never mind. Ms Masters was a fine spacer and an excellent first officer. I'm sorry to lose her, but she knew the risks. Everyone back to their stations. We carry on.”

Castiel can't move. He feels as if he's still falling into that black hole. He can sense Dean's gaze upon him, but he can't bring himself to face him. A woman is dead and it's because of his mistake. Once again, he has proven what a failure he is. How could he ever have thought that just because he'd finally left home, things would change? He's still the same, still useless. Unable to bear the accusatory looks coming from the crew, he walks away towards the stern of the ship and finds a secluded spot in which he can hide. If only he could hide from himself, as well.

*****

Gabriel comes to find him almost immediately. He tries to talk to Castiel and tells him not to blame himself. Castiel only scoffs at him. Who else is there to blame? He appreciates Gabriel's support, as well as his obvious concern, but this isn't something that he can help Castiel with. Finally, he's able to convince Gabriel that he'll be fine; he just needs some time to himself. He'll find Gabriel if he needs to talk. It's obvious that Gabriel knows he's lying, but he also seems to understand the underlying message. Castiel doesn't want to talk about it.

After that, Castiel is thankfully left alone. He sits with his back against the railing and stares up at the stars. The morbid and self-punishing part of his brain wonders what it was like for Ms Masters falling into the black hole. Did she suffer for long or was it a quick death? He tries to imagine the terror that she must have felt and it makes him feel nauseous. Did she scream or did she realise that it was hopeless?

Now and again, a crew member walks past him. Most of them ignore him, but some of them throw him dark glares and mutter to each other. Castiel doesn't care. Their opinions aren't important. They're not the ones that he let down and he doubts that many of them will shed any tears over Ms Masters. Ms Masters ran a tight ship and she didn't tolerate any nonsense from the crew. Whenever someone misbehaved, she saw to it that they were immediately reprimanded. It didn't win her many friends. Castiel respected her, though. She may have been strict, but she was fair and she obviously knew what she was doing. And now she's dead because of him.  
Night falls while Castiel is sitting there. They call it night when darkness falls, even though there isn't really any such thing as night and day in space. It's all to do with their proximity to the stars around them. At the moment, their closest source of light is a nebula, which casts a red tint over the ship and the sky around them. Most of the crew have gone below deck and the rest are occupied in other parts of the ship. Castiel hasn't seen anyone in what feels like hours.

There are footsteps approaching. Every other step is accompanied by a mechanical hissing, which is how Castiel knows who it is. He doesn't turn his head, but keeps staring upwards. Of all the people that he doesn't want to face, Dean is probably at the top of the list. Castiel doesn't want to know what Dean must think of him. He can't bear the idea of having Dean think less of him.

Dean stands over him for a while, looking down at him. Since Castiel isn't looking back at him, he has no idea what expression is on Dean's face, so he can't tell what Dean's thinking. It must finally become clear to Dean that Castiel isn't going acknowledge his presence, because he sighs and sits down on the deck beside him.

“Still sulking, huh?” Dean says.

It's probably the last thing that Castiel was expecting him to say. He's so shocked by Dean's insensitivity that he turns to stare at him incredulously. Dean's lips are twisted in a crooked smile, but his eyes are sad and, Castiel thinks, a bit worried. When Castiel meets his gaze, the other corner of Dean's mouth rises as well. He bumps his shoulder against Castiel's.

“It wasn't your fault, Cas,” he says.

“How can you say that?” Castiel asks, feeling almost betrayed. Out of all the people he knows, he thought Dean would be the least likely to offer him hollow reassurances. “Ms Masters is dead, because I couldn't even check the safety lines properly.”

Dean shakes his head.

“I don't believe that,” he said. “I know you, Cas. You wouldn't be careless with a job like that. If you say that you checked the safety lines, then you checked the safety lines. Something else must have gone wrong.”

Hearing the unwavering certainty in Dean's voice makes the tightness in Castiel's chest loosen slightly, even though he knows that he doesn't deserve it. He would like to let Dean believe that, because he craves Dean's approval so badly, but he doesn't want to get it based on a lie. That's why he feels compelled to ask, “Like what, Dean? What other explanation is there? The line wasn't there, which I should have noticed. Either that, or it wasn't tied properly, which I also should have noticed. However you explain it, I made a mistake and now a woman is dead because of it.”

To his great mortification, his voice cracks and his eyes fill with tears. He hasn't cried all day, because he doesn't feel as if he has the right to. Now he's breaking down in front of Dean.

“Just leave me alone,” he chokes out, desperate not to let Dean see him like this.

Of course, Dean doesn't listen. Instead he puts his mechanical arm around Castiel and pulls him closer, until Castiel's head is resting against Dean's shoulder. It does nothing to help Castiel keep himself together.

“Not a chance,” Dean whispers into his hair.

“I killed her.”

Castiel is sobbing now. The guilt is almost too much for him to bear. Almost against his will, he presses closer to Dean, as if he can shield him from the pain of that knowledge. Both of Dean's arms encircle him, holding him tightly. Castiel is almost sitting in Dean's lap and he buries his face against Dean's neck. Dean's real hand begins stroking his back soothingly.

“You didn't,” he whispers. “Please, trust me on this, Cas! I know you didn't kill her. I know you weren't to blame. Don't ask me how I know, just please believe me!”

There's something in his voice that Castiel can't quite identify. He sounds almost as wrecked as Castiel feels. For some reason, Castiel finds himself almost trusting him. He knows that he checked all the lines, but he's been convinced that his memory is deceiving him. If Dean tells him that there is another explanation, however, then maybe there is. Dean doesn't sound as if he's saying it just to make Castiel feel better. Still, there is that niggling sense of doubt that tells him that all other explanations are impossible. He shakes his head.

“Dean,” he says sadly.

He's stopped crying, at least for now, but he still clings to Dean, unable to let go. It feels so good to sit there with Dean's arms around him, his face pressed against Dean's skin and Dean breathing into his hair. His heart is pounding, his hands are trembling and his head is spinning slightly. Something brushes against his forehead, once and then again. Only after the third time does Castiel realise that it's Dean's lips. The realisation makes him clutch the fabric of Dean's shirt even more tightly in his hands. When Dean's lips touch his forehead again, he feels as if the spot that they touch is burning, spreading heat throughout his body.

“Dean,” he says again, sounding dazed.

“Cas,” Dean whispers. “Cas, look at me!”

Castiel doesn't want to move. He wants to remain as they are and he wants to continue feeling Dean's lips on his skin. Dean, however, seems to have other plans. The hand that has been stroking Castiel's back rises, until it's clutching Castiel's jaw and making him lift his head to look at Dean. The expression on his face is breathtaking. It's so soft and Castiel thinks he can read affection in it, but he doesn't dare to feel certain for fear that he's wrong.

“You've got to stop blaming yourself,” Dean says.

Castiel has the feeling that he isn't just talking about Ms Masters. He shakes his head and lowers his gaze, unable to continue looking into Dean's eyes. Breaking their gaze doesn't stop Dean from continuing, however, nor does he let go of Castiel's face. His thumb is gently stroking his cheek and jaw.

“I know your dad did a number on your head and trust me, I can relate. But you've got to let go of that. Whatever he did, it was all on him and none of it was your fault, just as Meg dying wasn't your fault. So enough of this guilt trip and this wallowing in self-loathing. You are not worthless, not even close. And if your dad couldn't see that, then screw him. His loss. Stop believing someone who never took the time to know you and listen to those of us who do know you instead.” His thumb moves, until its tracing the shape of Castiel's lips. Castiel closes his eyes and focuses on the sensation, barely listening to Dean as he leans close to whisper, “If only you could see yourself as I do, you'd never doubt yourself again. I don't even know what it is that you've done to me, what you _are_ doing to me. Cas, you have no idea. I can't...”

Dean's final words disappear along with the distance between their mouths, crushed between their lips pressing together. Castiel can't suppress a gasp and it's echoed by a desperate noise in the back of Dean's throat. They begin carefully, with just their lips moving slowly against and over each other, but it isn't long before the kiss becomes more intense. Castiel has never kissed anyone before. He never dreamed that it would feel like this, like his entire being is reduced to his mouth against Dean's, Dean's tongue in his mouth, Dean's air in his lungs. He wants to get closer, wants to feel every part of Dean pressed up against him. His heart feels as if it's about to explode, growing too big for his chest. There are tiny, winged creatures in his stomach, fluttering around, and his entire body trembles.

Dean's hands move to grasp his hips. Castiel startles slightly when Dean's cybernetic hand grabs him, but he refuses to break the kiss. When Dean pulls at him, he goes willingly, until he's straddling Dean's lap. Lost in the kiss, he is barely aware of Dean’s right hand pulling his shirt free of his trousers. Suddenly there are fingers brushing against the skin of his back and sides. His head is swimming and he has to break the kiss to concentrate on just breathing. Dean’s mouth moves across his jaw, whispering against his skin.

“Cas.”

There is a question in his voice and Castiel answers it without thinking.

“Yes. Please.”

Before he knows what’s happening, he’s on his back with Dean’s body covering his own and Dean’s mouth once again devouring his. He can feel every part of Dean pressed up against him and he lets out a moan when he realises that Dean is as affected by this as he is. Dean’s hands are working on unbuttoning his shirt, but the cybernetic hand is not made for such a delicate task. When Dean fails to open a button for the fifth time, he lets out a frustrated growl, which would be amusing if it wasn’t so arousing. Castiel is as eager as Dean to feel skin upon skin, so he decides to take pity on Dean and opens the remaining buttons himself.

Meanwhile, Dean has managed to remove his own shirt by simply tearing it off his body. He pulls Castiel close, pressing their bare chests and stomachs together, and the sensation is almost too much for Castiel to bear. He bites his own lip until he almost draws blood, while his hands move as of their own volition across Dean’s back. When his fingers dip beneath the waistband of Dean’s trousers, Dean’s entire body shivers on top of him. Castiel traces the skin there softly, enjoying the soft noises that Dean’s making.

This time it is Dean who breaks their kiss. Castiel groans in protest, but he is silenced by Dean’s mouth moving downwards across his chest. Dean takes his time, mapping every inch of his chest and stomach with his lips and his tongue. Castiel can do nothing but lie back and try to bury his fingers in Dean’s short hair. If he could think, he would have trouble believing that this is really happening, but as it is, all thoughts are driven out by the intensity of his feelings.

Then Dean is tugging at his trousers, pulling them down and off his legs, until he is lying naked on the deck. Dean is sitting up and straddling his legs, while his eyes travel over Castiel’s body, quickly followed by his hands. Castiel can’t help but feel embarrassed. He has never felt more exposed and he is worried that Dean won’t like what he sees. Dean seems to read the anxiety on his face, because he smiles and leans down to kiss Castiel softly.

“You’re beautiful,” he tells him. “The things I want to do to you.” His eyes glaze over temporarily, as if he’s imagining it. Then he shakes his head and grins at Castiel. “But we’d need more time for that. Tonight, I just want to make you feel good.”

Castiel can’t exactly argue with that, so he simply nods, not trusting his ability to speak. The implication that they may do this again makes something in his chest both clench and relax at the same time. He can’t wait to find out what things Dean was talking about. Not that he thinks anything can make him feel better than he’s feeling right now. Dean’s hands and mouth are back on his body, slowly mapping it, almost possessively, as if Dean is marking him. It isn’t necessary. At the moment, Castiel knows that he belongs to Dean and that he will do so for as long as Dean wants him. With shocking clarity, he finally recognises what he’s been afraid to acknowledge until now: that he has slowly but steadily been falling in love with Dean.

He is so caught up in the wonder of this realisation that he completely fails to notice when Dean removes his own remaining clothing. The sudden sensation of their naked bodies pressing together brings him back to reality with a surprised moan. Dean’s skin is burning against his, a startling contrast to the cool night air. Castiel lets his hands move freely over every part of Dean that he can reach, wanting to touch all of him. Dean seems to approve, judging by the sounds he’s making. He’s moving downwards again, with more purpose this time, and Castiel knows what will happen next.

When he feels himself enveloped by the wet heat of Dean’s mouth, he almost whimpers with pleasure so extreme that it borders on pain. His head falls back against the deck with a dull thud and he forces himself to move his hands away from Dean’s body, for fear of hurting him. Instead he claws desperately at the wood underneath his fingers and concentrates on remaining as still as he can. It isn’t easy and he doesn’t quite succeed, but Dean doesn’t seem to mind.

With his body already so worked up and this being his first time, it is only natural that Castiel doesn’t last very long. He barely has time to warn Dean, who doesn’t pull away, before he’s sent tumbling over the edge. There are stars dancing before his eyes and he can’t tell which ones are real. He’s biting his lip to prevent himself from screaming and this time, he really does taste blood. The pleasure explodes within him, moving in waves throughout his body and reminding him of the star that they saw implode earlier. This time, however, there is no escaping it, even if he wanted to, and he is left drained and gasping on the deck. His entire body feels numb and too heavy to move, so he lies still and tries to remember how to breathe.

Dean has moved off so that he’s lying beside him. His shoulder bumps against Castiel’s, as his arm moves quickly. Suddenly, he lets out a low, drawn-out groan, as his entire body seems to convulse. Then he too grows still. When Castiel turns his head towards him, he finds that Dean is already looking at him. He is grinning hugely, but his eyes are soft and filled with undisguised affection. Castiel grins back, knowing that his feelings must be equally obvious and not caring in the slightest. At that moment and despite being so exposed, he feels absolutely invulnerable. As long as Dean is with him, everything is perfect. The pain and the guilt that he felt earlier are forgotten, replaced by a sense of calm and joy.

They put their clothes back on to protect themselves against the cold, then Castiel curls up against Dean’s side and Dean puts his arms around him. Lulled by the steady rhythm of Dean’s breathing and inhaling his scent with every breath of his own, Castiel quickly drifts off into sleep.

*****

Castiel wakes up to the sound of voices speaking quietly near him. It takes him a moment to remember where he is. It's obvious that he is outside. There is hard wood underneath him, a cool breeze blowing around him and bright sunlight penetrates his closed eyelids. Then the memories of the night before return to him. He smiles, but doesn't move. His body aches slightly from having slept on such a hard surface, but he's happy enough that he doesn't care. Even the thought of Meg can't cloud his joy, at least not entirely.

The voices that woke him are still talking and Castiel finally recognises them. One of them belongs to Dean, which explains why he's no longer lying next to Castiel. The other belongs to Dean's brother Sam. Sam sounds upset.

“What if one of the others had found you?” he's saying. “Dean, how could you be so stupid? They're already beginning to question the plan. If they knew...”

“What then, Sam?” Dean growls. “What do you think they'd do?”

Sam doesn't reply. Instead he asks, “You know what Azazel is saying? He's saying that you've gone soft. That you won't be able to go through with it. He doesn't think you have the nerve to do what needs to be done.” 

“I see,” Dean says. His voice is low, dangerous. It sends a shiver down Castiel's spine. “And what do you think, Sam? Do you think I've gone soft?”

“Of course not! Don't be stupid! All I'm saying is that these men aren't like Dad's crew. They aren't to be trusted. If you give them even the slightest opportunity, they will stab you in the back.”

“You don't think I know that? Sam, you know what I've sacrificed, what this has cost me. What it has cost both of us. Dad, his ship, his crew. Do you really think I'd let anything stop us now that we're this close?”

“No,” Sam says. He sounds almost sad. “I don't.”

Dean sighs heavily.

“Summon the crew,” he says. “I'll talk to them. Remind them that _I'm_ still their captain. I'm the one with the plan and they obey _my_ orders. Not Crowley's, not Azazel's. Mine. And right now, I want to see them all in the galley.”

“Aye, aye, Captain!” Sam's voice is dry, but Castiel hears him walk away, obviously to obey Dean's order.

Castiel's heart is pounding and he can't bring himself to move. Dean is the crew's captain. Dean has a plan. Dean wants something and he's close to getting it. And Dean is a cyborg. How could Castiel have been so stupid as to trust him? He feels sick with betrayal and shame.

There is a long silence, during which Castiel focuses on keeping his breathing steady. He isn't sure whether Dean is still there, but he can't risk letting him know that Castiel overheard his conversation with Sam. Just when he's beginning to think that Dean must have left, he hears someone sigh heavily. Footsteps approach him and he senses Dean kneeling beside him. His heart leaps and for a moment, he thinks Dean's going to touch him, maybe even kiss him. If that happens, he truly doesn't know how he'll react. But Dean only sighs again and rises to leave. Castiel hears his footsteps moving in the direction of the galley. He remains where he is while he counts to thirty, then he gets up and hurries after Dean.

When he gets to the stairs that lead down to the galley, he discovers that he’s in luck. The crew aren’t there yet. Dean is the only one in the galley and he’s standing with his back towards the door. He’s leaning against the counter with his shoulders slumped and his head down. Castiel hesitates for a moment. His heart is beating so loudly that he’s sure Dean must hear it, but Dean makes no sign that he’s aware of Castiel’s presence. Castiel knows that this is his best hope of learning about Dean’s plan, so he makes his way down the rest of the steps as quietly as he can. With his eyes firmly fixed on Dean to make sure he doesn’t turn around, he makes his way over to one of the corners where there are a number barrels behind which he can hide. 

He barely has time to find a position from which he can watch Dean unseen before he hears more people coming down the stairs. Immediately, Dean straightens and spins around. There is a hard look on his face that Castiel doesn’t recognise. He wonders if this is the real Dean and if the charming man that’s become his friend, and his lover, was nothing but a mask. He can barely bring himself to look at him.

Most of the crew have gathered now. Castiel wonders if they think that no one will notice that they’re all missing. If so, they are severely underestimating Crowley. Castiel doubts that there is anything happening on-board the ship that Crowley isn’t aware of. Then he remembers what Dean said about being the real captain and he’s forced to reassess that thought. Apparently, there are things that even Crowley has missed.

Sam is the last one to enter the galley and he remains standing by the closed door, obviously keeping guard. His attention seems divided, however, since he keeps sending Dean worried looks. It’s clear that he doubts Dean’s ability to force the crew back into line. Judging by the dark glares and angry mutterings coming from the crew, Castiel thinks his fears may be well-founded.

To his surprise, Dean is able to silence them all with only a sharp look. He is standing tall and straight with his arms crossed, surveying the crew coldly. His eyes linger for a moment on Azazel, who is standing near Castiel’s hiding place with an insincere look of polite interest on his face.

“Right,” Dean says loudly, “now that we’re all here, there are a few things that I think we need to get clear. But first things first. I want to know what really happened to Meg Masters. And don’t give me those innocent looks! I know one of you knuckleheads had something to do with it. So out with it!”

No one says anything. Castiel is holding his breath, partly in anticipation of the answer and partly because he’s afraid that if he lets it out, he’ll start screaming. So that’s why Dean was so sure that Ms Masters’ death wasn’t Castiel’s fault. It didn’t have anything to do with his faith in Castiel. He knew that one of his crew was guilty, but he kept quiet, knowing that Castiel would take the blame. Castiel feels as if someone has taken a knife and is slowly twisting it around in his heart. In fact, he thinks it would probably hurt less if Dean had taken a knife and literally stabbed him in the back. At least that pain would have been tangible and passing. Castiel fears that the wound caused by Dean’s betrayal will never heal.

Dean keeps glaring at the men that stand gathered before him, making it clear that he’s willing to wait until someone answers him. Hardly surprisingly, it’s Azazel who finally speaks.

“I was the last person to see Ms Masters,” he says. “She was aloft on one of the yards, working on releasing the sails. She must have lost her footing, because I saw her fall, and apparently, her safety line wasn’t all that secure. I tried to reach her, but I was too late. All I could do was watch her drift off into the star. As you can imagine, it was a horrible sight to witness.” He sighs dramatically. “Poor girl!” 

Dean fixes him with a disdainful stare.

“In other words, you cut her safety line. Did you push her too?”

Azazel shrugs insolently. From where he is hiding behind the barrels, Castiel can only see half his face, but he can tell that Azazel is smirking. It makes his blood run cold to see the cruelty in the man’s eyes.

“Now, now, boy,” Azazel says, “you shouldn’t go accusing people without a shred of evidence. You’ll make a lot of enemies that way.”

“Captain,” Dean snarls. “You address me as captain and you obey my rules. How many times do I have to make it clear to you? We do not kill!” He walks forward, until he’s standing face to face with Azazel. “I’m of a mind to drop you off at the next empty planet that we pass,” he said in a low voice. “I don’t want murderers in my crew.”

“Your crew?” Azazel looks around at his crew mates. “I’m not so sure they are _your_ crew anymore. It seems to me - to many of us - that you made a lot of promises, but you don’t seem to have any intention of keeping them. We’re beginning to think that maybe we should find ourselves a captain who is willing to look after our interests.”

“What the devil are you talking about? Do you seriously think that anyone else could have taken you this far? I promised I’d lead you to Treasure Planet and that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“So you say,” Azazel says. “And we’re just supposed to take your word for it. Meanwhile, we’re working our asses off for that worthless piece of shit that calls himself the ship’s captain and you’re off making googly-eyes at that boy toy of yours.”

For a moment, the shadow of something that could be regret passes over Dean’s face, but it’s gone so quickly that Castiel thinks he imagined it. Instead, Dean looks contemptuously incredulous.

“Are you really that stupid?” he asks. “You think I’m doing it because I like the boy? Crowley forced the whelp on me; I couldn’t say no or it would have looked strange. I’ve been trying to keep the kid distracted, so he won’t suspect anything. Uriel must have warned him about me when he gave him the map. The kid knows a cyborg is looking for him. I think I’ve thrown him off the scent, but it hasn’t been easy. You have no idea the lengths I’ve had to go to. So don’t think for a moment that you’re the ones doing all the hard work. None of you could do this without me. I’m the one with the plan and I’m the one who can make it happen. That means that you do what I say. If anyone breaks my rules again, I will personally make sure that you never get anywhere near that treasure. Is that clear?”

The only good thing about that speech, Castiel thinks, is that at least he isn’t hurting anymore. He feels nothing now except hollow and numb. It’s as if all his fears, all his insecurities have finally been confirmed. He sees now how stupid he’s been. How could he have thought that someone like Dean would ever want someone like him? Of course it was all just one big lie, a ruse to gain his trust. Dean could obviously tell that Castiel was falling in love with him and he decided to use that to his advantage. What happened the night before was just the culmination of his manipulations and if Castiel hadn’t overheard his conversation with Sam, he would probably have succeeded. If Dean had asked him about the map, Castiel isn’t sure that he would have been strong enough to lie to him. 

There is a lot of grumbling, but after a while, the crew members seem to grudgingly agree. They nod their heads and shrug. Dean and Azazel are still locked in a staring contest, but after a while, Azazel looks away, apparently conceding defeat. 

“Crystal clear,” he says. “Captain.”

Another of the crew members clears his throat. Dean raises one eyebrow at him, while his eyes narrow.

“Not to question your plan, Captain,” the crew member says, in a tone that makes it clear that that is exactly what he intends to do, “but some of us are beginning to feel a little impatient. We’ve been waiting a long time and as Azazel says, all we have to go on is your word. How much longer before we can set this plan of yours into motion?”

Dean doesn’t answer straight away. It’s obvious that he’s thinking about how to answer the question.  
Finally, he says, “Soon. Sam’s been flirting with the cousin, trying to gain his trust. I’m not ashamed to say that he’s been more successful than me. From what he tells me, we’re on the final stretch of the journey. Treasure Planet is close. So you all need to be ready, because as soon as we’re sure of its location, we’re taking control of the ship. You all know what to do. Just watch for Sam’s signal. And remember, no killing!”

This final injunction is met with more muttering from the crew. Azazel is shaking his head.

“It’s a bad idea, letting them live,” he says. “Not only does it mean leaving witnesses behind, but it makes us look soft. I say we kill them all and be done with it. It’d be neater and more efficient.”

Dean looks as if he’s grinding his teeth together. Despite everything, there is a part of Castiel that is still happy to see that Dean seems to hate Azazel almost as much as Castiel does. He’s aware of the irrationality of that reaction. Dean obviously knows what Azazel is like and he still keeps him on his crew. What does that say about Dean?

“One more death, Azazel,” Dean growls, “and the next one will be yours, I swear. I’ll throw you into the next star or leave you floating around in empty space. Don’t test me! Now get back to work before Crowley gets suspicious.”

Azazel’s face twists into a cold sneer, but he makes a lazy salute. 

“Aye, aye, Captain,” he drawls. 

The men head back up the stairs and soon the galley is empty, except for Dean and Sam. Sam looks nervous, but determined, as he walks up to his brother. Before he can speak, however, Dean cuts him off.

“Save it, Sam,” he says. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“Dean,” Sam protests, but Dean doesn’t listen. Instead he pushes past Sam and disappears up the stairs. Sam sighs, but has no choice but to follow up onto the deck.

Castiel remains sitting behind the barrels for a few moments, trying to figure out what to do. He knows that he’ll have to tell Bobby and Crowley, but then what? Even knowing the pirates’ plan, there isn’t much that they can do to prevent it. They are severely outnumbered and resistance is most likely to get them killed, despite Dean’s orders. Finally, he decides that the best thing he can do is to try to buy them some time. If he talks to Gabriel, he can get him to give Sam false directions. As long as they’re the only ones who know how to get to Treasure Planet, they’re indispensable. 

Having determined on this course of action, he gets up and steps out from his hiding place. He’s almost at the stairs when the door at the top opens. There’s no time to hide, so he can only remain frozen in place as Dean steps into view. He doesn’t look surprised to see Castiel.

“I went back and you were gone,” he says. “I figured this was where you’d go. I take it you were here the whole time?”

Castiel doesn’t reply. He’s trying to think of a way to escape. Dean is walking towards him, his cybernetic leg hissing with each step. His arms hang loosely by his sides, but Castiel can see the tension in his shoulders. Dean’s face is blank and Castiel has no idea what he’s thinking. All he knows is that he has to get out of there and warn the others. If Dean gets a hold of him, all will be lost. 

Dean seems to read the fear on his face. He stops and raises his hands in a placating gesture.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Cas,” he says. “I just want to talk.”

Castiel snorts. 

“Why?” he says. “So you can lie to me again? Make me think you care, that I matter to you, that I’m not worthless? I know I’m not. I’m worth more than you know, Dean, because I’m the only one who knows how to find the treasure. Me. Not Gabriel, not Bobby, not Crowley. I’m the one you want.” He swallows against the lump in this throat, refusing to let Dean know how badly he’s hurt him. “How’s that for irony? Yesterday you had me, even though you didn’t want me. Now that you do want me, you will never ever have me.”

Dean flinches, as if from a physical blow. His face twists in a mask of pain and regret. It gives Castiel a perverse sort of enjoyment to see a reflection of his own feelings in Dean’s eyes, even if they’re caused by the loss of the treasure and not Castiel. 

“Cas,” Dean says, pleading. 

Castiel shakes his head. He doesn’t trust himself to speak again. Dean takes a step towards him and Castiel instinctively moves backwards to stay out of his reach. His back hits one of the counters. Dean continues to move towards him and Castiel realises that he’s trapped. His eyes dart from side to side, looking for a way to escape, while he runs his hands over the counter behind him, hoping to find something to use for a weapon. 

“Cas,” Dean says again, “we don’t have to do this. We can continue to work together.”

Castiel makes a sound that’s supposed to be a snort of derision, but to his horror, it sounds more like a sob. 

“So you can continue lying to me and betraying me?” he asks, trying hard not to notice the way his voice cracks. “Forget it! You will never set foot on Treasure Planet.”

Dean is standing right in front of him, so close that all he has to do is reach out and grab Castiel. His face is sad, but his jaws are set in determination.

“Don’t do this, Cas!” he says. “I will find the planet, one way or another. Don’t make it harder than it has to be, on both of us!”

Castiel shakes his head again. Any physical pain that Dean can inflict on him is nothing compared to the agony of Castiel’s current feelings. He wants to say something defiant, to make Dean understand that he isn’t afraid and he isn’t going to break, but he’s distracted by his fingers brushing against metal. It’s a spoon, which isn’t the weapon that Castiel was hoping for, but one of its ends is sharp enough to do some damage, as long as Castiel puts enough force behind it. He hesitates, knowing that he has to choose the right moment.

Just then, there’s a call from above that chills his blood. It’s the very last thing he wants to hear, because it tells him that it’s already too late. Dean has already won. The voice belongs to crewman Brady, the lookout, and the cry consists of two words.

“Planet ahoy!”

Dean’s face twists into a triumphant grin. It’s the first time that Castiel thinks him anything other than beautiful. 

“You were saying?” Dean asks.

Castiel decides that the right moment has arrived. He grips the spoon tightly, dashes forward and shoves the sharp end into the one of the air pumps attached to Dean’s cybernetic leg. Then, before Dean can react, he’s gone past him and up the stairs, throwing the door open and running in the direction of the quarter deck. He hears Dean cursing behind him, clearly having difficulties walking on the broken leg. Since there’s no chance that Dean will catch him, he slows down and focuses on avoiding the rest of the crew. Unfortunately, Dean doesn’t waste any time.

“Listen up, you cretins!” he roars to the crew. “Change of plans! We move now!”

There are cheers from some of the crew, before they spring into action. The mutiny is quick and efficient. The crew know exactly what to do and as Castiel suspected, there is no stopping them. Before long, Dean is standing on the quarter deck, barking out orders, the ship’s flag has been replaced with the Jolly Roger and Castiel and his friends have retreated into the stateroom. The crew didn’t bother capturing them, knowing that there’s no way for them to get off the ship. Castiel knows that they’ll be coming for him soon, but he won’t go without a fight. 

Crowley has opened one of the cabinets and pulls out three guns. He hands one each to Bobby and Gabriel. 

“Gentlemen,” he says. “Prepare to defend yourselves.”

Bobby is checking the gun. It’s obvious that it isn’t the first weapon he’s handled. 

“Castiel,” he says. “You’ve still got the map?”

Castiel nods. He can feel Crowley’s eyes on him, as he pulls out the stone tablet from his pocket and shows it to Bobby. Bobby nods approvingly.

“Good,” he says. “Keep it hidden and stay back! The rest of us will protect you.”

“Good plan,” Gabriel says, “except for one thing. There are about twenty pirates out there and there are three of us. We can go down fighting, but we’re still going down.”

He’s right, of course, and they all know it. They’re safe for now, but the pirates have already begun working on the locked door, trying to get in. Once they do, it’s all over. Bobby’s looking grim and determined; Gabriel is biting his lip, exchanging worried looks with Castiel. The only one who doesn’t seem as if he’s accepted their inevitable defeat is Crowley. He’s staring at Gabriel thoughtfully, as if his words have given him an idea.

“Going down,” he repeats.

Gabriel looks at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe that’s the answer,” Crowley says. “You’re right; we’ll never make it past the pirates. But maybe we won’t have to.”

He points his laser gun downwards and before any of them has the time to ask what he’s doing, he pulls the trigger. The gun burns a hole in the floor, its edges smoldering slightly. It’s big enough for a man to climb through and Castiel sees Bobby’s face break into a grin. 

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he says. 

“Probably,” Crowley agrees, “but not just yet. Let’s go!”

One by one, they climb down the hole and reach the deck below. It seems as if most of the pirates are gathered above, because this deck is empty of life. As quickly as they can, they make their way through the ship’s innards to get to the hangar bay, where the longboat is waiting. They reach it without encountering any of the pirates. Bobby slams the door behind him and uses his laser gun to fuse the lock. Meanwhile, Crowley has pulled the lever to open the hatch and they all climb into the longboat. 

They’re halfway down through the hatch by the time the door blasts open. A number of crew members rush inside and begin firing their weapons at the four men in the longboat. Crowley, Bobby and Gabriel return fire, while Castiel takes control of the longboat. Crowley and Bobby both manage to disarm and incapacitate two pirates each, while Gabriel hits another, seemingly through sheer luck. There are laser bullets flying through the air around their heads, but miraculously, they all remain unscathed. Castiel does his best to ignore the gun fight going on around him and concentrates on getting them safely through the hatch. 

He is working on releasing the last of the ropes that attach the longboat to the ship when Dean appears in the hangar bay. Their eyes meet and Castiel finds himself unable to move. There is a strange expression on Dean’s face and Castiel wishes that he knew what it means. It makes his chest ache and his stomach turn leaden. Dean is just standing there, watching him. He hasn’t even raised his left arm, which Castiel can see has transformed into a gun. A part of Castiel wants to believe that Dean doesn’t want to hurt him because he really does care, somewhere deep down, but a more rational part points out that Dean knows that he still needs Castiel to find the treasure.

A laser bullet whizzing past his ear breaks his sudden paralysis and he turns his attention back to getting them out of there. The ropes are loose, so he steers the boat away from the ship and out of the line of fire. As they’re flying away, he can’t resist throwing a glance over his shoulder to catch a last glimpse of Dean, staring after them with that strange expression still on his face.

Crowley is cursing up a storm, making it very clear how he feels about losing his ship to pirates. He more or less shoves Castiel out of the way to take the helm of the longboat himself. Castiel makes no attempt to resist, even though he could probably do a better job of it. Instead he goes to sit beside Bobby, who is looking grim, but determined, as he searches the space around them for somewhere to land. 

Gabriel is sitting in the bow, looking calm and relaxed. Only the way his fingers keep fidgeting betrays his nervousness. When Castiel meets his eyes, Gabriel opens his mouth to speak, but whatever he had to say turns into a cry of warning. A big blast of laser nearly hits the boat. Castiel twists around in his seat to look back at the Crossroad King. Crewman Walker has manned the laser cannon and is aiming for the longboat. He fires off a series of blasts, forcing Crowley to swerve to avoid them. The sudden movement almost causes Castiel to fall off his seat, but Bobby manages to grab him in time to keep him upright.

When Castiel looks back at the ship again, he sees Sam appear behind Walker at the cannons. Sam says something to Walker, who replies, but does not stop firing the cannon. They are too far away for Castiel to make out their faces, but Sam seems to be angry. He's clearly shouting and gesticulating wildly, but Walker ignores him. Finally, Sam shoves him away from the cannon and they both disappear from view. 

Unfortunately, it's too late. The longboat moves too slowly to avoid Walker's final blast, which utterly destroys its sails. Crowley lets out a cry of pain and clutches at his side. Bobby moves towards him, but Crowley waves him off.

“I'm fine,” he growls.

They’ve been heading towards the planet and have almost reached it. Crowley struggles to keep the longboat on a steady course, but it keeps dropping lower. Soon, they're skimming the trees on the surface of the planet and they continue losing altitude. Once they descend into the thick jungle, Crowley completely loses control of the longboat. They hit the ground, hard. Bobby and Castiel fall off their seats, but fortunately they stay in the longboat. Gabriel is not so lucky. He's tossed out of the boat, which hurtles along through the thickets.

“Gabe!” Castiel shouts, scrambling to sit upright and look out over the railing.

Bobby grabs him by the trench-coat.

“Stay down, you idjit!”

The longboat hits something on the ground – a rock or a log – and comes to a sudden stop. Castiel is thrown forward and hits his head on the railing. It doesn't knock him unconscious, but the world loses focus for a moment. He hears Crowley groan and Bobby curse. For a short while, he remains disoriented, but then he remembers.

“Gabe!”

Before either of the others can react, he's out of the longboat and running backwards along the trail of destruction that they've left in their wake. To his immense relief, he soon sees Gabriel, limping towards him from the opposite direction. When he gets closer, Castiel sees that he is scratched and bleeding. He's favouring his left leg slightly, but he doesn't seem to be too severely injured. Castiel offers to support him, but Gabriel waves him off. Together they make their way back to the longboat.

When they get there, they find that Crowley is apparently in a worse shape than Gabriel, at least judging by the greyish pallor of his face and the laboured sound of his breathing. He's trying to step away from the longboat, against which he is leaning, but as soon as he lets go, he begins to fall. Bobby is immediately there to catch him, but Crowley waves him away.

“I can manage,” he insists through clenched teeth.

“Of course you can,” Bobby says dryly. “Everything, except walk, apparently. Now, I'm sorry to have to add a bruised ego to your list of injuries, but I'm not about to be captured or killed because you were too proud to accept help. That longboat is like a beacon, signalling our position, and I'd like to be long gone by the time those pirates get here.”

Crowley opens his mouth to speak, but it turns into a series of coughs. It sounds painful and Castiel almost winces in sympathy. Finally, Crowley nods, although with obvious reluctance. Bobby steps forward again and this time Crowley puts an arm around his shoulder. Slowly and carefully, they walk away from the longboat.

“So,” Crowley asks, “I assume young Mr Harvelle knows where we're going?”

Castiel blinks. He's just been following the others, his only thought to get as far away from the longboat as possible. Crowley apparently sees his confusion.

“You are the man with the map, aren't you?” he asks.

“Oh,” Castiel says. “Yes! The map.”

He pulls the tablet out of his pocket, relieved to see that it’s still whole, despite the fighting and the crash. The relief turns to panic, however, when he tries to read it and discovers that it no longer makes sense. The symbols on the tablet have lost all their meaning. No matter which way he turns the tablet, he can’t decipher the writing.

The others are watching him with growing alarm on their faces. They can obviously tell that something is wrong, but they have no way of knowing what. Castiel doesn’t know how to explain it to them. Writing carved into stone doesn’t just change overnight. And yet, somehow, this writing has.

It’s only when he feels the tablet begin to tremble that he realises what has happened. It does nothing to ease his anxieties. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, struggling to keep at least the appearance of calm. Panicking completely won’t do them any good. 

“Castiel?” Bobby sounds like he’s doing his best to remain calm, too. “What’s going on?”

Castiel opens his eyes, but he doesn’t look at any of his companions. Instead, he keeps his gaze on the trembling tablet in his hands.

“Okay, Morphy,” he says. “The game is up! You’ve had your fun, but the joke is over.” 

The tablet slowly changes colour and change, transforming into a small, pink blob with huge eyes and a grinning mouth. Both Gabriel and Crowley gasp and Bobby makes a noise of surprise. Castiel ignores them. 

“Morphy,” he says, trying to get the attention of the tiny prankster, who is obviously very excited.

It zooms around their heads, changing itself into various shapes. It doesn’t seem the least bit concerned that its owner is nowhere around. During the months that they have spent in space, Castiel has got to know the creature quite well and he knows that Morphy loves him almost as much as he loves Dean. Apparently, as long as one of them is around, Morphy is happy. Castiel only hopes that this means that Morphy will obey him, just as it usually obeys Dean.

“Morphy,” he says again, sounding a bit sterner this time. 

The creature stops flying around and comes to hover in front of Castiel’s face, looking anxious. Castiel doesn’t have the heart to be angry with it, knowing that there’s no way to make it understand why Castiel is upset. Morphy loves playing jokes and they usually make people laugh. Imitating Castiel’s things is just a way for it to get Castiel’s attention and it’s always been a bit of game between them. Anger would only upset the creature and make it more difficult for Castiel to get the answers he needs.

“Morphy, where is the tablet?” Castiel asks, keeping his voice gentle.

His fears are confirmed when Morphy takes the shape of the Crossroad King. His heart sinks further when Morphy then transforms into a barrel filled with purple fruits. It’s obviously one of the barrels in the galley, which means that not only is out of reach to Castiel and his friends, but the pirates could find it at any time. Their only hope is that the pirates won’t be very hungry for fruit. After all, Dean thinks that Castiel has the map, so he has no reason to start looking for it on the ship. If they’re lucky, it will remain hidden until they can think of a way to get back onto the ship.

He points all this out to the others. They don’t seem to find it all that reassuring.

“Brilliant!” Crowley says. “Just bleeding fantastic! And how are we supposed to get back onto the ship?”

No one replies. It seems like an impossible task.

“Well,” Bobby says finally, “we could just stay where we are and let them find us. I’m sure they’ll be happy to escort us back to the ship, once they find out that we don’t have the map. Although, if you ask me, I’m not sure that’s the best way to go about it, so I suggest we find somewhere to hide, until we've thought of what to do next. Castiel, go have a look around. See if you can find somewhere for us to lie low for the time being.”

Castiel nods. Just as he's walking away, however, two things happen. The first is that a shadow passes over them, making them look up. Another longboat passes overhead. Castiel assumes that the Winchesters and their crew are in it. The second thing to happen is that Crowley lets out a muffled cry. When Castiel looks back, he sees that the captain has fallen to the ground. Bobby is kneeling next to him, examining him. He then tells Gabriel something and Gabriel nods and begins looking around, apparently for whatever supplies Bobby asked for. Knowing that there’s no way for him to help them, Castiel turns his back on them and heads off into the jungle.

*****

One thing quickly becomes clear to Castiel, as he makes his way through the jungle. Space exploration is a lot less glamorous than the stories make it out to be. In all his fantasies of different planets and undiscovered worlds, Castiel never once contemplated the idea of how very wearisome it is to make your way through uncharted terrain. The jungle that he’s currently making his way through is fortunately not all that thick, but the vegetation is dense enough to make his passage difficult. There are many different plants that Castiel doesn’t recognise, most of which are beautifully colourful, and he would probably find them fascinating, if he wasn’t so busy cursing their existence. Brambles tear at his clothes and skin, hidden roots catch his feet and cause him to stumble and thick bushes block his path. He’s able to cut his way through some of them by using Morphy, since the shapeshifter has obligingly turned itself into a machete, but more than once has been forced to turn back and start over again. And still he hasn’t found anywhere for them to hide.

He’s just about to give up and go back to the others, when he catches a movement out of the corner of his eye. Without thinking about it, he spins around, brandishing Morphy the machete. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting; an animal, maybe, or one of the pirates, even though he knows that they can’t possibly have found them yet. What he isn’t expecting is for as strange man to emerge from the bushes, with his hands held in front of him to show that he’s unarmed. The man’s clothes and face are covered in dirt, his blond hair is messy and full of twigs and leaves, and he looks as if he’s spent months in the jungle. There is something strange about his eyes and it isn’t just that they look utterly vacant. He’s grinning at Castiel, as if he couldn’t be more delighted to meet an armed stranger in a thick jungle on an uninhabited planet. 

Castiel doesn’t have a clue what to do.

“Um,” he says.

It’s about as much sense as he can make of the situation. The stranger doesn’t seem to mind.

“Hello, handsome,” he says. “And who might you be?”

Castiel blinks. That sounded rather flirtatious. Not how he would have expected to be greeted by someone he met in the middle of a jungle. 

“Um,” he says again. “I’m Castiel.”

The stranger’s grin looks more like a leer. Castiel tightens his grip on Morphy the machete.

“Castiel,” the stranger repeats. “Let me guess. You just dropped out of the sky as an answer to my prayers.”

“No,” Castiel replies. “I mean, yes, I did drop out of the sky, but I don’t think it was as an answer to your prayers. I didn’t even know this planet was inhabited.”

“It’s not.” The stranger shrugs. “There’s just me. To be honest, it’s been ever so boring. But now that there are two of us, there are all sorts of fun to be had.”

He takes a step closer to Castiel, who takes a step backwards, brandishing the machete.

“Who are you?” he asks.

The man’s smile diminishes somewhat, but he doesn’t look wary or offended. Instead, he looks perplexed, as if Castiel’s question has confused him. His vacant eyes flick from side to side, clearly searching for an answer. He’s biting his lip, obviously distressed, and Castiel can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy. He realises that the man must have been lost in this jungle for a very long time, long enough that he’s forgotten his own identity. The thought makes him unconsciously lower the machete, but the man doesn’t seem to notice. He’s frowning, as if the answer is right on the tip of his tongue.

“It begins with a ‘d’”, he says thoughtfully, “or maybe a ‘p’. No, that’s not right” He bites his lip again. Suddenly, his face lights up again. “Balthazar!” he exclaims. “That’s it! I’m Balthazar and I’m an android. Funny thing to forget, isn’t it?”

“You’re an android?” 

Castiel has never seen an android before, although he’s heard of them. He didn’t think they would be quite so lifelike. If Balthazar hadn’t told him, he never would have guessed. Then again, that is the point of androids. He wonders if that’s the explanation for the vacant look in Balthazar’s eyes. 

Balthazar nods. 

“As I live and breathe,” he says. “Well, I don’t, but you know what I mean.”

“How did an android end up all the way out here? Did you come here alone?”

Balthazar frowns, looking confused again.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “Blimey, it’s hard to remember! It’s almost as if part of my memory has been blocked. Probably a blown circuit or something. Not to worry, though, love. Everything else is still in working order.” He winks suggestively. “Anyway, I think my being here has something to do with my last owner. What was his name? Lucas? Lucia? Lucy? Lulu?”

“Lucifer?” Castiel suggests, hardly daring to believe that it could be true. “Captain Lucifer Morningstar?”

Balthazar’s face brightens again.

“That’s it!” he says. “Odd chap! Had a bit of a temper. He liked to have things his own way. Proud, too, and greedy. Clever, though. He programmed me. Literally taught me everything I know.”

“Did he?” Castiel asks. “So what did you do for him?”

He regrets asking almost immediately. The grin on Balthazar’s face turns positively lewd.

“Anything he desired,” Balthazar replies. “Although I didn’t so much do things _for_ him as I did _to_ him. If you’d like, I could demonstrate.”

Castiel shakes his head vehemently. 

“No, thank you,” he says. 

“You sure? I’m very good at what I do. It’s what I was made for, after all.”

“I’m sure,” Castiel says firmly. “What, were you his...?”

He doesn’t quite know how to finish the question. 

“Pleasure provider,” Balthazar replies. “And what pleasure I provided. Then I got stuck here. Talk about waste.”

Castiel swallows. He really doesn’t know what to say to that. The conversation is making him distinctly uncomfortable.

“I’m sure,” he mumbles. “Anyway, I should go. My friends are waiting. I need to find somewhere for us to spend the night. There are some people looking for us.”

He starts backing away, hoping that the android won’t follow. Of course, his hope is in vain.

“Somewhere to spend the night?” Balthazar asks. Like everything else, he makes it sound incredibly dirty. “Oh, love, why didn’t you say so? I’d be happy to have you. As my guest, I mean. And your friends, too. The more, the merrier, eh?”

Castiel doesn’t want to ask, but they don’t have many options.

“You have a home?”

Balthazar just gives him a look.

“Of course I do,” he says. “Surely you didn’t think I’d spent the last century sleeping in the bushes. Pleasure, pet. There’s not much pleasure in being bitten by insects and rained upon. Rain is only sexy when it’s someone else getting wet.”

Castiel hesitates. He’d really rather just leave Balthazar behind, but he doesn’t know the area and he has no idea if there is anywhere else for them to hide. 

“Fine,” he says. “Let’s go get my friends and then you can show us to your home.”

Balthazar looks delighted.

“That sounds splendid, darling,” he says. “It’s been so long since I entertained guests.”

*****

They find the others exactly where Castiel left them. Castiel introduces Balthazar to them and tells them that they'll be able to hide in his home. The others don't seem too happy with the idea of trusting their lives to a strange android, but none of them can think of any better alternative. Their walk to Balthazar's home is slow, mainly because Crowley insists on trying to walk on his own. Both Bobby and Gabriel try to convince him to let them make some sort of rudimentary stretcher to carry him on, but he gives them such dark glares that they soon give up. It doesn't stop Crowley from grumbling, however. He is obviously in a lot of pain and the rough terrain doesn't make it easier on him. Before long, he's worn the patience of his companions thin. Gabriel and Castiel hold their tongues, only exchanging exasperated looks, but Bobby is less diplomatic.

“For crying out loud, Crowley,” he growls. “Either accept our help or stop whining. You're the one who told us you could walk, so don't expect our sympathy.”

“I wouldn't dream of it,” Crowley replies. “I'm just saying, surely there must hiding places closer by. We don't need to trudge across half the bleeding planet.”

“I'm sure there are,” Castiel agrees, at whom the comment was directed. “Would you like to go look for them?”

Crowley's eyes narrow dangerously and he takes a deep breath, clearly preparing himself to remind Castiel of his place. He doesn't seem to have realized that they are not on his ship anymore, so he doesn't get to give orders. Before he can say anything, however, he is interrupted by Balthazar, who scoops him up into his arms like he weighs nothing and starts carrying him, completely ignoring Crowley's loud protests.

“Relax,” he tells him. “It'll be quicker this way. I'm far stronger than any human, so I won't drop you, and I never get tired. We may even reach my home by nightfall.”

“That would be great to know,” Crowley says sardonically, “if that's what I was worried about. But right now, I'm far more concerned about having your dirty paws groping me all over.”

Balthazar rolls his eyes. It's such a human reaction that it actually takes Castiel aback. “Please,” he says. “As if I'm interested in groping you. The only reason I'm even putting up with you is because your pretty friend over there won't come with me alone. Now him, I wouldn't mind getting my dirty paws on. I'd happily grope him all over.” 

His gaze became distant, clearly imagining it. Castiel couldn't help squirming slightly. He made sure that both Bobby and Gabriel walked between them. Gabriel was grinning hugely, clearly amused.

“What do you know, cousin?” he said. “Maybe Bobby was right. Maybe this trip really will make a man of you.”

Castiel tried to glare at him, but he could feel his face flush and had to turn away. Gabriel had no idea about what had had happened between him and Dean, and Castiel intended to keep it that way. He wasn't sure what Gabriel would say if he found out, whether he'd react with anger or pity. Either way, Castiel wasn't ready to deal with it. The pain of Dean's betrayal was like a knife through his heart and the cut was still bleeding. Talking about it would only serve to twist that knife. He also couldn't help feeling ashamed of himself and how easily he had been taken in. If he hadn't allowed his emotions to overrule his rationality, he would probably have figured out what Dean was up to sooner. For that reason, he felt that it was far better if none of his family or friends ever knew what had happened.

Crowley makes a face. “Too much information, although I suppose that's some comfort, at least. Just remember that I feel your hands anywhere that they're not supposed to be, I will happily cut them off.”

Bobby shakes his head and chuckles. “Bet that stretcher's sounding really good right now, huh, Crowley?”

Crowley just gives him a look and says, “Bite me!”

*****

Balthazar's home is a natural cave that has formed in the stump of an enormous tree in a clearing in the jungle. The stump is so huge that it'd take an hour to walk around it. Castiel can't even begin to imagine how big the tree must have been. It makes him almost sad to think of something so grand and majestic being reduced to something so small and ugly. For some reason, it makes him think of Dean and his cybernetic parts. Not that Dean, by any stretch of the imagination, could ever be called ugly, but his is still a mutilated kind of beauty.

A broad sort of dirt ramp leads up to the front opening to the cave, but it looks so natural that if Castiel hadn't known to look for hit, he wouldn't have realised that it was there. The opening to the cave isn't visible from the jungle and Castiel begins to hope that maybe they've found the perfect hiding place, after all.

When they go inside, the guests are happy to discover that the cave is dry and reasonably homely. There's even a fireplace where they can start a fire to warm themselves and some water to wash their wounds. Gabriel and Castiel tend to each other, while Bobby looks after Crowley. Castiel notices that even though he acts as gruff as always, his hands are surprising gentle and he can't quite hide the worry he feels, when he realizes the full extent of Crowley's injuries.

Apparently, Balthazar notices this, too, because turns to watch them, cooing. “What a lovely couple,” he comments.

Interestingly, both Bobby's and Crowley's cheeks turn pink and Bobby moves away from Crowley so quickly that he lands on his behind. They don't seem to want to look at each other.

“We're not,” Bobby says hurriedly. “A couple, that is. Not even close.”

Balthazar raises one eyebrow. “Mhmm,” he says, sounding highly disbelieving. “Well, in that case, you should probably get on it, right away. In my home, feelings and desires are acted upon, not repressed. I find it’s a much healthier style of life.”

“It's how you've been programmed,” Bobby points out. “It's different when you're human.”

Balthazar looks gleeful. “Aha,” he says. “So you do admit that there are feelings and desires there to be acted upon? That's good to know!”

Bobby looks like he wants to bite his tongue. His entire face is bright red. “Now just wait a minute,” he says. “I didn't say that.”

“Just leave it,” Crowley says behind him. “Let the android keep his sordid fantasies if it makes him happy. Come finish dressing this wound instead, would you?”

With a final scowl towards Balthazar, Bobby does as he is he told. Castiel catches Gabriel's eye over Bobby's head, as the latter kneels down. Gabriel looks as surprised as Castiel feels, but he shrugs and gives Castiel a crooked grin. Walking over to Castiel, he speaks quietly, so the others won't hear him, “Even grumpy old men need love.”

Castiel is barely able to contain his snort of laughter. Gabriel waggles his eyebrows at him suggestively. Castiel shakes his head at him, but he knows he can't hide his amusement. Gabriel's stupid jokes too often make him laugh.

“That may be so,” he concedes, “but I don't need to see it. I think I'll go keep watch at the entrance instead.”

He sits down by the opening of the cave, and stares out into the dark jungle. Dean is out there somewhere with his men, probably searching for them. Castiel wonders what he's thinking, whether he regrets anything of what he's done. Probably not. Dean made it very clear that all he cares about is the treasure. Castiel was just a means to an end.

With the day that he's had, it is perhaps no wonder that Castiel feels exhausted, physically and emotionally. It isn't long, therefore, before he falls asleep where he sits. Behind him, in the cave, the others curl up on blankets on the floor and let sleep take them, too. 

*****

Castiel wakes some hours later with a start. Warm light is shining in through the cave opening. Balthazar is leaning over him, with his hands on Castiel's shoulders, shaking him slightly. When he sees that Castiel has opened his eyes, he smiles.

“Oh, good,” he says. “You're awake.”

Castiel rubs the sleep out his eyes. “What is it?” he asks.

“Your friends,” Balthazar replies. “The ones that were looking for you. They've found you.”

Castiel scrambles to his feet, suddenly feeling wide awake. “What?”

“Your friends, love,” Balthazar repeats. He points out through the opening. “They almost walked straight past us, but I was able to stop them. I knew you were waiting for them. One of them wants to talk to you.”

Castiel gapes at him. The android is beaming at him, looking very pleased with himself. Castiel barely has the heart to scold him.

“No,” he says. “Balthazar! We weren't waiting for them; we were hiding from them. They were looking for us, because they want to hurt us.”

Balthazar's grin fades. “Oh,” he says. “So the pretty bloke with the metal hand waiting for you outside...?”

Castiel closes his eyes briefly. “I have something that he wants,” he says.

When he looks up again, Balthazar is leering at him. “Of course you do, love,” he says. 

Castiel rolls his eyes, but doesn't bother to correct his assumptions. Instead he turns towards the opening and peers outside. Dean is standing halfway up the dirt ramp. He's leaning on his real leg and Castiel realises that he injured the cybernetic leg more than he thought. For a brief moment, he feels regret and he instantly hates himself for it. Dean lied to him, used him, even seduced him. In Castiel's opinion, he got off lightly.

The other pirates are nowhere to be seen. Castiel supposes that they are hiding somewhere among the trees. He knows that it would be a mistake to go out there. Dean can have nothing to say to him that Castiel doesn't already know. All Castiel would be doing would be to give Dean the opportunity to get his hands on him and that would be disastrous, since Castiel is the only one who can read the map. On the other hand, they need to know where the map is, whether the pirates have found it. And there's a part of Castiel that _wants_ to talk to Dean. He doesn't know what he wants to say, but he knows if he doesn't, he'll never be able to move on.

“I'm going to talk to him,” he tells Balthazar. “Wait until I'm gone, then wake the others.”

Balthazar nods. There's a strange look in his inhuman eyes. Castiel gets the feeling that he understands far more about the situation than he should. He just hopes that the android will keep his suspicions to himself. 

As soon as he sets foot outside, he can feel Dean's eyes upon him. Morphy, who has left the cave before him, lets out a happy sound at the sight of Dean and zooms ahead to greet him. Castiel is almost sad to see the creature go. He could have used the moral support. Castiel determinedly keeps his face blank to disguise the turmoil within him. His stomach is writhing, his heart is pounding and he's finding it hard to breathe. Still, he walks steadily closer, while he watches Dean greet his small pet, smiling and petting Morphy lovingly, 

When he gets close enough to speak, Castiel stops, careful not to get close enough for Dean to grab him. “Hello, Dean,” he says. He's proud of how even his voice is. “What do you want?”

Dean looks up from his reunion with Morphy and his expression changes immediately. It's a small comfort to Castiel to see that Dean looks uncomfortable and guilty. “I just want to talk,” he says. “To explain.”

“There's no need. I understand perfectly. You were using me.”

Dean shakes his head. “No,” he says. “Look, Cas, I know what you overheard and what you must think. I just want you to know that I didn't mean it. What happened between us...” He cuts himself off, biting his lip, apparently looking for the right words. “Okay. I'll be honest with you. When Crowley first assigned you to be my cabin boy, I did think of using it to my advantage. I thought that if I could get close to you and make you trust me, then you could lead me to the map. I knew that one of you must have it and I thought you were my best bet at getting my hands on it. Not to sound arrogant or anything, but it was kind of obvious that you had a crush on me, so I thought if I just flirted a bit with you, showed a bit of interest, I'd soon have you eating out of my hand.”

Castiel feels himself blush. He'd known that his crush was obvious, but to hear Dean speak of it so plainly just makes him feel even more pathetic. Dean was absolutely right. Castiel had lapped up his attention like a lovesick puppy, desperate for a bit of approval. However much he wants to blame Dean for everything that happened, Castiel didn't exactly make it difficult for him.

“I'm glad I made it so easy for you,” he says drily, hoping to hide his embarrassment.

Dean lets out a bark of laughter. “I wish,” he says, sounding almost bitter. “Cas, you made it anything but easy. Don't you get it? I messed up. I thought that by taking a bit of interest in you, I could make you fall for me, but all I was doing was digging a hole for myself. I got to know you, Cas, and the more I got to know you, the more I liked you and before I knew it...” He shakes his head, obviously unable to say it out loud. “Let's just say that I finally realised that I was no longer pretending. I haven't been for months. Everything I told you, everything I said, I meant it. I swear.”

Castiel snorts, but it sounds weak. He wants to believe Dean so badly, but he knows that this is just another one of his tricks. As always, Dean is just telling him what he wants to hear. “I don't believe you,” he says bluntly. “I heard you, Dean. I heard what you told your crew.”

Dean sighs and smiles sadly. “I was lying, Cas. I said what I said to protect us, to protect you. I'd been careless. Sam told me that I was being too obvious, that the crew were getting suspicious. They could see that I genuinely cared about you and they were beginning to question my leadership. I don't know if you've noticed, but most of them aren't very nice people, Cas. If they'd figured out the truth... They would have killed us. They would have killed you, me, Sam and Gabriel, and Mr Singer and Crowley. I'd been trying to think of a way to save us all. Then that whole supernova thing happened, Meg died and I screwed up even more. I know you think what happened was just part of my plan, but I swear to you, it wasn't. I would never do that. Even if I didn't feel the way I do about you, I still couldn't have. I just made a mistake, Cas.”

It's stupid, but hearing those words, Castiel can't help but flinch and take an involuntary step backwards. He already knew that what they did was a mistake, but hearing Dean confirm it hurts worse than any physical blow. It was a bad idea, coming out here. What was he hoping to hear?

Apparently, Dean can read his reaction and seems to sense that Castiel is about to flee, because before Castiel can move, Dean's cybernetic hand has closed around his arm. So much for staying out of reach. “Wait!” Dean says. “Just hear me out. I told you I'd be honest with you and the truth is that I didn't mean to sleep with you, Cas. I'd been trying so hard to keep my hands off you. But you were so miserable and I just wanted to make you feel better about yourself. I know all about self-loathing and I couldn't bear the idea of you hating yourself, especially not for something that wasn't even your fault. Then one thing led to another and how was I supposed to resist, when you so obviously wanted it? I'm only human. Of course, I hated myself afterwards, but by then it was too late. The damage was done. But the worst part was that I couldn't really bring myself to regret it. I told myself I'd talk to you, tell you everything, but I never got the chance. So this is me now, telling you the truth. You've got to believe me, Cas!”

He sounds so very earnest and Castiel is rather impressed is with his acting. Because that's all it is, he reminds himself. Dean is acting and if Castiel allows himself to believe it, he isn't just going to have his heart broken all over again, but he's going to end up leading Dean to the treasure.

“No,” he says simply. “I don't have to do anything. I asked you what you wanted, Dean. If you just wanted to tell me a whole bunch of lies, I think I'll go back to the others.”

He tries to tear his arm out of Dean's grip, but of course, it's futile. That cybernetic hand is far too strong for him.

“Not yet,” he says. “I get it. You're hurt and you're angry and you don't trust me. That's fine! But I can prove myself to you, Cas. I came here to ask you to come with me. Let's look for the treasure together! After we find it, we can buy ourselves a ship and we can sail the Etherium together. Isn't that what you wanted?”

Castiel stares at him. “You must think I'm a fool,” he says. “Not that I can blame you. I have been acting like one. But not anymore. I know who you are now, Dean Winchester. You're a liar, a pirate and a barbarian. You burned down my mother's inn or had you forgotten about that?”

Dean actually looks guilty. “Yeah, about that...,” he begins, but Castiel doesn't let him finish.

“Don't,” he says. “I will never again believe a word that you say. However, you can believe me when I tell you that you will never have that map and you will never see so much as a doubloon of the treasure. That I promise you.”

“Then you will break it,” Dean says. He's looking angry now. “That treasure is mine, Cas. I've earned it with my blood, sweat and tears. I'm not going to let some baby in a trench-coat stand in my way, not when I'm this close.”

“And how do you plan on finding it,” Castiel asks, “without a map?”

He realises his mistake the moment Dean raises one of his eyebrows. With his free hand, Dean digs in the pocket of his jacket. “What?” he says. “You mean this map?”

He holds up the tablet for Castiel to see. Castiel's heart drops into his stomach. They've lost. “And how do you plan on reading it?” he asks, somewhat desperately.

Dean gives him another sad smile. “I'm not,” he says. “You are.”

“Or what?”

Dean doesn't answer. Instead, he turns around and shouts, “Sam! Now!”

For a moment, everything remains quiet. Then suddenly, Dean's men come running out of the jungle, led by Sam. Castiel watches, frozen with horror, as they run roaring up the ramp towards the cave, where he knows the others are trapped. There's a cry from the cave, a couple of laser blasts are fired out of the opening and two of the pirates go down. Before there can be much of a fight, however, the pirates have already reached the cave. Castiel hopes that his friends don't try to put up any more resistance. It's hopeless and it will only get them killed. He turns back to look at Dean, who is watching him with sorrow in his eyes.

“You will take us to the treasure,” he says, “or your friends will die.”

Castiel shakes his head. It isn't a refusal. That isn't an option any more. It's just despair. “And that,” he says, “is exactly how much you care for me.” 

Dean's expression doesn't change, but the grip on Castiel's arm tightens painfully. “No,” he says. “I care for you a great deal more than that. And you have no idea how much it would hurt me to cause you more pain.” His face hardens in a mask of determination. “But I will do it, Cas. Because I will have that treasure. So don't even think of testing me.”

Castiel sighs. “I won't,” he says. He holds out his hand. “Let me see the map!”

*****

The map leads them through the jungle and it takes them several days to cross it. Castiel walks in front of the rest of the group, together with Dean. They don't speak about anything other than which way they're going. Bobby and Gabriel walk surrounded by pirates, with their hands bound and their heads down. The pirates tried to make Crowley walk on his own, but when it became clear that he was slowing them down, they threatened to leave him behind in the middle of the jungle. Fortunately, Balthazar had been brought along with them and he took upon himself to carry Crowley again. 

When they finally emerge from the trees near the spot that the map indicates as their destination, it is to find themselves standing at the top of a high cliff. A green ocean stretches out before them, with no land in sight. According to the map, the treasure can be found a few feet off the edge of the cliff. 

“Are you kidding me?” Dean asks when Castiel tells him this. “The treasure is at the bottom of the ocean?”

Sam is standing beside them. “I guess it's possible that the cliff has eroded over time,” he says, “and that the treasure fell into the ocean with it.”

Dean lets loose a string of curses and starts kicking at loose rocks. Behind them, the other pirates are mumbling furiously. Castiel is torn between disappointment and relief. He's happy that the pirates won't get their hands on the treasure, but he'd been so excited about seeing it for himself. There's also a feeling that something isn't quite right. Sam's theory could be correct, but Morningstar hasn't been dead that long. Would a cliff really crumble that quickly? And why would Morningstar store his treasure here, out in the open and so close to the ocean?

Looking down at the tablet again, Castiel's eye catches on the tiny sign in the upper left corner. “Balthazar,” he calls. 

The android walks up to him, leaving Crowley standing on his own two feet with Bobby's support. “Yes, love?”

“Do you know what this symbol means?” Castiel asks, indicating the sign.

Balthazar frowns deeply. “I recognise it,” he says slowly. He makes a sound of frustration. “Why is it so bloody hard to remember? I want to say that there's two of them and that when they're united, something happens, but I haven't the faintest what it could be.”

Castiel sighs. That didn't do them much good. “Thanks, Balthazar,” he says. Maybe he'll be able to find further clues if he examines the map more closely. He goes to sit on the edge of the cliff, intending to do just that. However, as he lowers himself to the ground, his eyes catch on something beside him. It's an indentation in the rocky ground, a sort of small fissure. It could be something that's been formed through natural means, but it looks a bit too smooth and symmetrical for that. Coincidentally, it's almost exactly the same size as the tablet. Castiel crawls closer and as he does so, he notices the carving beside the fissure. It looks like an inverted copy of the sign on the tablet. His heart starts racing with excitement and his hands shake, as he slowly lowers tablet into the opening. 

The effect is instantaneous. There is a sharp, grinding sound as of two rocks sliding against each other. Sam lets out a yelp of surprise and takes a leap back, as the part of the rock that he stood upon begins to rise. As they all watch in amazement, what looks like a stone control panel rises out of the ground. It's covered in symbols, some of which are easily recognizable, such as the crescent near the middle, and some are too strange to make any sense. The biggest symbol is at the very center and it's in the shape of a star.

“What...?” Dean says, but cuts himself off. He's staring, not at the control panel, but at Castiel, as if he has all the answers. 

Castiel points at the tablet lowered into the ground. “It unlocked some kind of mechanism,” he says. 

“Okay,” Dean says, “ so what does that thing do?” He points at the control panel.

Castiel shrugs. “Only one way to find out,” he says. He thinks he may know already, but of course, he can't be sure. Not until he's tested his theory. Walking over to the control panel, he firmly presses the symbol of the crescent. As he'd suspected, the air before them tears open and a portal appears. It's big enough for several large ships to sail through. Through it, they can see a part of space, containing a crescent-shaped spaceport. 

“Crescentia,” Sam breathes. “Dean, that's Crescentia.” 

Dean says nothing. He just watches as Castiel presses the crescent again, closing the portal, and then presses another symbol. Another portal opens, showing a different part of space. Every symbol that Castiel presses opens a different portal, covering every part of the Etherium.

“That's the Lagoon Nebula,” Sam says. “That's halfway across the Etherium. I can't believe it. So that's how Morningstar did it. That's how he could appear and disappear so suddenly and travel so quickly from planet to planet. Amazing!”

Dean rolls his eyes at him. “Yeah, yeah,” he says. “You can geek out later. Cas, is there a portal that can take us to the treasure?”

Castiel hesitates. He's been so caught up in his excitement that hasn't even considered the consequences of what he's doing. It occurs to him now, too late, that he probably shouldn't have shown Dean all this. He's leading Dean straight to the treasure. 

Dean seems to read his thoughts, because his eyes narrow suspiciously. “Cas,” he says warningly. 

Castiel glances over to where the pirates are aiming their guns at his friends. Then he sighs and presses the symbol of the star. Yet another portal opens, this one bigger than all the others. While it widens, the cliff that they're standing on begins to change. A walkway slides out in front of them, creating a bridge over the water and into the portal. Dean exchanges an inscrutable look with Sam, then the two of them begin to make their way across the bridge, side by side. Castiel follows them, together with Balthazar. The rest of the crew and the prisoners walk behind them. 

Inside the portal, they're greeted by the most incredible sight. They're standing in a huge sort of metal cave. It looks like the center of some great machine. There are great tubes of metal, hissing pipes, levers and valves everywhere. The floor is presumably also made of metal, but there is no way to be sure, since not an inch of it is exposed. It's all covered with mountains of gold and jewels, treasure chests and canvas sacks filled to bursting. 

“The plunder of a thousand worlds,” Dean says reverently. He's looking around with huge eyes, as if unable to believe what he's seeing.

There is a moment of silence, while they're all too stunned to speak. Then one of the pirates lets out of cry of triumph, which is quickly taken up by the others. The crew run forward, past Castiel and Balthazar, and Dean and Sam, to throw themselves into the sea of riches. Only two of them remain behind to guard the prisoners: Mr Walker and Azazel. 

Dean completely ignores his crew. He's begun laughing, clutching at Sam's arm. “We're here, Sammy,” he says, sounding incredulous. “We did it. We finally made it!”

Sam nods. He seems unable to speak. The brothers look at each other with huge smiles on their face. Then, at some secret signal, they both start running further into the cave, where the greatest amount of riches can be found.

Castiel watches them go, then glances behind him. Neither Walker, nor Azazel is paying him and Balthazar any attention. Their envious gazes are fixed on their crew members, while their guns remain pointed at Gabriel, Bobby and Crowley. Castiel wishes that there was some way to free his friends, but for now, it seems impossible. The important thing is to make sure that he and Balthazar remain forgotten. He grabs Balthazar's hand.

“Come with me,” he says.

“Always and anywhere, pet,” Balthazar assures him.

Castiel ignores him. He's discovered something worth investigating. A great ship is anchored not far from where they're standing. Castiel assumes that it's the infamous ship of Captain Lucifer Morningstar. No one has ever been sure what happened to it. According to some legends, the reason that Morningstar's reign of terror ended was because the Captain went insane. His greed knew no bounds and he became obsessed with the idea of owning all the riches in the universe. He wanted to plunder every planet, but he knew that no mortal man could accomplish that in a lifetime. Therefore, he became obsessed with the idea of immortality, of finding a way to live forever. He began to perform painful and deadly experiments on his crew. Legend claimed that he was close to solving the riddle, when the crew had finally had enough and mutinied against him. Many of them were killed, but some escaped. One of them took with them the key to Morningstar's hideout, trapping him therein forever. 

If the legend is true, then the key must be map and this cave must be the hideout. For a moment, Castiel entertains the idea that the man who gave him the map was the same man who trapped Morningstar in here, but he quickly disregards it. It's impossible. Morningstar disappeared more than a hundred years ago. No man lives for that long. But even if Castiel will never get to meet anyone from Morningstar's crew, he can at least explore his ship. That's more than he's ever fantasized about, even when he was a little boy.

He and Balthazar climb up onto the main deck of the ship. It, too, is covered in riches. Castiel makes his way slowly backwards on the ship, towards the quarterdeck. Balthazar is unusually quiet behind him. Castiel wonders if being back on Morningstar's ship is stirring his memories.

“Recognize anything?” he asks him.

“Everything,” Balthazar replies. “This part of my memory seems to be intact. Although there is something...” 

He trails off, sounding troubled. Castiel glances back over his shoulder as he's walking, trying to read Balthazar's face. “Something important?” he asks.

Balthazar nods. “I think so,” he says. “If only I could...” He stops talking and his eyes grow huge. “Oh! Well. I suppose he may have something to do with it.”

Castiel turns around and lets out a shout of surprise. There's a throne-like chair in front of him and a man is sitting in it. He's tall and intimidating and apparently dead, if the empty gaze in his blue eyes is anything to go by. Strangely, he doesn't appear to have been dead for very long. There isn't any sign of decomposing. He looks as if he could have been alive just a moment ago. His skin doesn't even have the deathly pallor of a corpse.

“Is that...?”

Balthazar beams at him, as if nothing could make him happier than finding his dead maker. “Castiel,” he says, “allow me to introduce Captain Lucifer Morningstar.” He sighs. “Isn't he dreamy?”

Dreamy isn't the word that Castiel would use. Scary would be more accurate. Castiel's first instinct is to get as far away from the corpse as he possibly can, but he can't miss this opportunity. He's standing in front of Captain Lucifer Morningstar, staring into the face of the man who inspired all those legends and who is the source of so many nightmares. With his heart in his throat, Castiel approaches the chair slowly. He doesn't know why he's so careful. It isn't like Morningstar is suddenly going to stand up and attack him. But knowing who this man was and what he's done would probably be enough to inspire a certain amount of fear in anyone. 

“Oh, the things I could tell you,” Balthazar says behind him. “That man... You wouldn't believe the things he did. The things we did.” He chuckles. Then he makes a strange, happy sound. “Oh! I could tell you stories. Castiel, I remember. Just seeing him again, his face – it's all coming back to me. Oh!”

Castiel spins around to look at him. Balthazar looks absolutely overjoyed. His eyes are fixed on Morningstar's face and he's obviously lost in memories. Every now and then, he lets out an amused chuckle. “Oh my,” he says, “we were a naughty lot.” His eyes remain distant, as he continues his reminiscences. Castiel wonders what he's remembering. He's sure Balthazar has a lot of interesting stories to tell. 

Then suddenly, the expression on Balthazar's face changes. The joy is gone and is replaced by worry, which quickly changes into fear. His eyes move away from Morningstar and fix on Castiel instead. They look terrified. “Oh, dear!” he says. “Oh, no! Oh, I think we've made a huge mistake, love! Oh, blimey!” He reaches out and takes Castiel's hand. “Love,” he says, slowly and seriously, “RUN!”

He pulls Castiel forward and not a moment too soon. A loud, inhuman roar rises behind Castiel, who turns to look over his shoulder. He doesn't want to, but he has to know. His worst fears are confirmed. Morningstar has risen from his throne, with a look of pure fury on his face. His suddenly blazing eyes are fixed on Castiel and reaches out his arms to catch him. Fortunately, Balthazar still has hold of Castiel's hand and he pulls him out of Morningstar's reach. 

“RUN!” he shouts again and this time, Castiel does as he's told. He and Balthazar run headlong towards the bow of the ship. Castiel doesn't dare look back to see if they're being pursued, but it sounds as if the roars are becoming more distant. They may just be able to escape. 

No sooner has Castiel finished that thought, before he's proven so very wrong. There is a series of clanking and creaking sounds coming from the tubes and pipes that line that walls and cross the ceiling. Then suddenly, they all begin to spring leaks. Hot steam and molten metal pour out in streams of liquid fire falling from the ceiling. The ground quakes and is torn open into rifts, into which the mountains of gold begin to slide. Castiel hears the shouts of terror coming from the pirates, as they flee for their lives.

“We need to get to the portal,” he calls to Balthazar over the noise. “If we stay in here, we're dead.”

“But how?” Balthazar calls back. “There is no chance we'll make it all the way there alive.”

Castiel looks over towards the portal and realizes that he is right. A rift has opened between them and the exit, trapping them inside. He turns around, desperately looking for another means of escape. Morningstar is still standing before his throne, roaring and calling down a rain of destruction. Behind him is the quarterdeck of the ship. The ship! The one they're standing on.

“Balthazar! We're on a ship. We can sail out of here.”

Balthazar stares at him, as if he's insane. “Oh, sure,” he says sarcastically. “That's a brilliant idea! Just one problem. We seem to have a stowaway, who might cause us a bit of trouble.”

He's right, of course, but Castiel refuses to listen. There is no other way. “I'm going to sneak past him,” he says. “Try to keep him distracted!”

He doesn't wait for a reply, but immediately starts making his way towards the aft again. Behind him, Balthazar shouts, “Distract him? Darling, are you bloody mad? Are you trying to get me killed? Oh, bloody, buggering, bleeding hell!” He lets loose another string of curses, then he calls out in a different voice, “Oi! Oi, Lucifer! I'm here, you sexy madman, you! Come and get it, baby!”

Castiel winces. He really hopes he hasn't sent the android to his death. Somehow and for some reason that he can't explain, he's come to really like Balthazar. For now, however, he has enough to worry about, trying to keep himself alive. He moves along the railing, keeping an eye out for the suddenly silent Captain Morningstar. A movement ahead him makes him duck for cover and not a moment too soon. Morningstar passes on the other side of the crates behind which Castiel is cowering. Castiel assumes he's heading for Balthazar and hopes the android has sense enough to hide.

He remains where he's hiding for a moment longer, staring out over railing. He can see the pirates desperately trying to make their way to the portal, while avoiding the suddenly gaping chasms opening below them and waterfalls of fire from above. One of them is caught up in a sliding mountain of gold and ends up falling into one of the rifts. His scream of terror echoes through the cave. Another manages the leap across another rift and a look of triumph appears on his face, a moment before he's engulfed in a sudden stream of molten metal. 

Castiel catches sight of Sam, who has made it almost to the portal. There is a look of fury and determination on his face. Castiel is surprised to see him escaping without his brother. It occurs to him that Dean might be dead and the thought almost makes him double over in agony. After everything that has happened, he still loves Dean and he can't stand the thought of losing him. Not now, not like this. But if Dean is alive, why is Sam leaving him behind?

The answer becomes clear almost immediately. Sam isn't leaving. He is heading towards the prisoners, who are guarded only by Azazel. Walker seems to have fled. Azazel's gun is pressed against Gabriel's head, while Gabriel stands on the edge of the chasm that separates Castiel and Balthazar from the portal. One more earthquake and Gabriel will fall into the chasm, which seems to be exactly what Azazel is waiting for, if the look of sadistic glee on his face is anything to judge by.. Gabriel has closed his eyes, unable to do anything but await his fate, while Bobby and Crowley look on in helpless horror.

Then Sam is there, throwing himself at Azazel and knocking him to the ground. Gabriel stumbles back from edge, just as the ground begins shaking again. Sam and Azazel are rolling around, fighting and tearing at each other. The gun has fallen into the abyss. They roll closer and closer to the gaping chasm. Castiel sees Gabriel call out a warning, but it is too late. The two men are already rolling over the edge. At the very last minute, Sam manages to grab onto the edge and stop himself from falling. Azazel isn't so lucky. The cry he unleashes rivals Morningstar's in its inhumanity.

Sam pulls himself up and rolls away from the edge. He lies for a moment, just breathing heavily, clearly trying to steady himself. Then he gets to his feet and walks over to the prisoners. Surprisingly, he releases Gabriel last. The two of them stand for a long moment, just staring at each other. Then Gabriel throws himself at Sam and for a moment, Castiel thinks he's going to punch him. Gabriel's intention is completely different, however. He pulls Sam down into a kiss that is as scorching as the metal flowing from the pipes. Sam seems to be as surprised as Castiel, because he remains frozen for a long moment, before finally seeming to understand what is happening. He gathers Gabriel closer and returns his kiss with equal passion. Behind them, Bobby and Crowley are staring at them with identical expressions of appalled shock.

Castiel decides that he has seen enough. His friends are as safe as they can be. It's time for him to find a way to get them all out of there. He continues back onto the quarterdeck, without seeing any glimpse of Morningstar. He finds the controls, but they are all broken. Fortunately, everything is there that he needs in order to fix them, but it's going to take some time. He needs to reattach some of the wires and put back the parts that have fallen loose. 

He becomes so lost in what he's doing that he doesn't realize his danger, until it's too late. Heavy steps approach him from behind and when he spins around, Morningstar is looming over him. The evil captain begins raising his arms, reaching for Castiel's throat. Castiel backs away, out of his reach, until he feels the railing against his back, trapping him. It's all over. This is how he'll die. He thinks of his mother and his sister, waiting for him back home. His death is going to crush his mother. He thinks of Bobby and Gabriel, so close and yet completely unaware. It'll be up to them to break the news to his mother. He hopes she doesn't blame them. Finally, he thinks of Dean. Beautiful Dean, who taught him the meaning of both love and betrayal. If he could wish for anything, in this moment, he would wish for a final glimpse of Dean's face.

And then he has his wish. Dean appears behind Morningstar, looking like an avenging angel with a blazing sword. Granted, his sword is just a metal pipe, but it still blazes with the reflected light of the fires around them. Dean brings the pipe down over Morningstar's head, just as Morningstar is about to put his hands on Castiel. With another roar of fury, Morningstar swings around. His arm knocks against Castiel, pushing him over the railing and into the rift that has opened below them. Luck is with Castiel, however, and he lands on a platform, some distance below the edge. It's too far down for him to climb up, so all he can do is sit there and stare helplessly upwards, trying to catch sight of Dean's battle with Morningstar. The ship blocks his view, however, so he is left to wait in excruciating uncertainty. 

Suddenly, the two of them appear into view. Morningstar is pushing Dean against the railing, his hands locked around Dean's throat. Dean is scrabbling uselessly at Morningstar's hands, trying to loosen them, but it is clear that he is growing weaker. Even his cybernetic hand doesn't appear to have the strength. Castiel wants to close his eyes, so he doesn't have to see Dean lose this struggle, but he can't bring himself to even blink. Just as Dean's head begins to droop from the lack of oxygen, a shadow falls over the fighting pair. Two hands grip Morningstar tightly and with superhuman strength, they lift him and throw him over the railing. Morningstar falls, but he pulls Dean with him. Castiel screams, but it is drowned out by Morningstar's final roar. 

That roar is cut off, however, when he lands on a platform opposite Castiel. Dean lands on top him. The century he has spent dormant seems to have dulled Morningstar's senses. He reacts too late and before he seems to have grasped that he is no longer falling, Dean has taken advantage of his moment of surprise and pushed him off the ledge. There is another roar and then silence.

Dean and Castiel stare at each other across the rift. Dean is still lying down, seeming unwilling to move. He's bleeding from a cut on his forehead and his lips are bruised, but he's alive. “Are you okay?” he shouts.

Castiel nods. “I'll live,” he shouts back. “You?”

Dean gives him the thumbs up, but he grimaces in pain. “Can you climb up?” he asks.

“No. You?”

Dean shakes his head. They're still trapped. All that they can hope for is that their friends will find some way of saving them.

“Dean,” Castiel calls. Dean raises his eyebrows at him. “Why did you come back?”

Dean's broken and swollen lips twist in what looks like a very painful smile. “Why do you think?” he asks. “I told you, I do care. Do you believe me now? Or is there anything else you need me to do to prove it to you, besides attacking some undead, supernatural pirate captain who can rain fire and make the earth quake?”

Castiel just stares at him. It can't be. Dean came for Castiel, even though it's clear that he could just as easily have escaped with Sam. There would even have been enough time for him to bring some of the treasure with him. Instead, he risked his life by going up against Morningstar, just to save Castiel. 

“Dean,” he shouts again. “Dean, I thought I was going to die.”

“I know,” Dean calls back. “So did I. It's kind of why I did what I did.”

“No, that's not I meant. What I'm trying to say is, I thought I was going to die and the last thing to cross my mind was you. I just wanted to see you again. Just one more time. When you appeared behind Morningstar, I thought I was hallucinating. I couldn't believe it was really you.”

Dean sits up with obvious difficulty. He opens his mouth to speak, but just then something falls into the space between them. It's a rope ladder. Looking up, Castiel sees Balthazar's face staring back down at him.

“Well?” he shouts. “Whenever you two are done declaring your undying love for one another, you may want to climb up. In my experience, such confessions are usually followed by utterly disgusting displays of affection, but that may be difficult if there's a chasm of fire between you. So up you come and then... Well, then I suppose you can just come.” He gives them an utterly filthy grin, before disappearing from view.

Dean rolls his eyes. “I don't like that guy,” he calls to Castiel. “Where did you pick him up?”

“In the jungle, darling,” Balthazar replies, popping his head back in view. “Best pick up place ever. Especially if you're looking to have some hot monkey sex.” He winks and disappears again, leaving them to stare after him in horror. 

“He's joking, right?” Dean says. “He hasn't actually...?”

Castiel shakes his head. A pleasure provider stuck alone in the jungle for a century. “I don't think we want to know,” he says. “Now come on. Let's get out of here.”

They both manage to make it up the ladder with some help from Balthazar. With Dean's help, Castiel fixes the ship and manages to get it working again. They pick up the others and then they sail out through the portal. Castiel climbs down onto the rock beneath. He closes the portal to the treasure room and opens the one to Crescentia instead. Once it is fully open, he gets the map out of its slot. The portal immediately begins to close, but Sam is ready. As soon as Castiel has grabbed hold of the rope ladder, he steers the ship through the portal, which closes behind them. Then he sets a course for the spaceport ahead.

*****

Castiel is standing in the bow of the ship, watching the spaceport come ever closer. He's feeling a mixture of contradictory feelings that he can't quite process. His first adventure in space is coming to a close and while he's happy that he'll soon be seeing his family again, he's afraid that nothing will have changed back home. He doesn't want to go back to that miserable existence again. Hopefully, however, all that he has experienced during these last few months will have been enough to keep him content, until he can leave again. He knows without a doubt that this will not be his last journey. Even with all the pain and the horror, it's still been the best months of his life and he's never felt more alive.

Of course, there's also Dean to think of. They haven't really spoken since their escape from Treasure Planet, at least not about anything that matters. Castiel doesn't know if it's because they haven't found the time or if they're both avoiding the conversation. He thinks it's probably the latter. It just feels as if there's too much to say, too much to explain and too much to try to understand. He doesn't know where to begin, so he's been putting it off.

Now time is running out. Once they reach Crescentia, Dean and his brother are going to prison and there is nothing that Castiel can do to prevent it. They may have been the ones who saved them, but Sam and Dean are also the ones who instigated the mutiny and that is something that Crowley refuses to forget. He's determined that when they reach Crescentia, the Winchesters will be handed over to the space authorities. Mutiny is a serious crime, so they'll probably be put away for quite some time.

As for their men, none of them really know what happened to them. They assume that most of them made it back to the Crossroad King and sailed away in it. Castiel knows that Crowley is furious about that. He would be, too. It is to be hoped, however, that the pirate crew, like their captain and their first mate, will be captured and made to stand trial. For now, Captain Morningstar's ship isn't a bad replacement vessel.

So Dean is going to prison and Castiel is going back home, and who knows if they'll ever see each other again? It's isn't exactly a happy thought. Castiel knows that his feelings for Dean aren't going to go away any time soon. If he could suffer through Dean's betrayal and still love him, then a tiny thing like being separated, possibly forever, isn't going to make him stop. Besides, maybe it doesn't have to be forever. Dean will be released eventually and Castiel is willing to wait for him. He may even be able to visit him in prison. However, before he can make any such plans, he really needs to talk to Dean, to find out if he still means what he said – or rather what he didn't say.

He looks around, but neither Dean, nor Sam is anywhere on the deck. Crowley is steering the ship and Bobby is standing beside him, a bit closer than usual. Gabriel is sitting by the hatch that leads below deck, playing with some golden coins. Most of the treasure was lost into the chasms, but there was still plenty stored aboard the ship. Enough that Castiel's mother will never have to worry about money ever again, which was part of the purpose of this journey.

When Castiel opens the hatch to climb down into the innards of the ship, Gabriel looks up.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

“I need to find Dean,” Castiel tells him honestly. “There are some things that I need to talk to him about.”

Gabriel grins. “Talk, eh?” he says. “Is that what you crazy kids are calling it these days?”

Castiel glares. He still hasn't told Gabriel anything about what has been happening between him and Dean, but Gabriel is perceptive. He's obviously figured a lot of things on his own. Unfortunately for him, he doesn't seem to realize that Castiel knows some of his secrets, as well.

“You tell me,” he says. “Have you and Sam done much talking?”

Of course, Gabriel has always been without shame and impossible to ruffle, so he doesn't even look embarrassed. “Some,” he says, waggling his eyebrows, “but mostly, our mouths were otherwise occupied.”

Castiel rolls his eyes. “Good for you,” he says. “So do you know where he and Dean are?”

Gabriel shakes his head and jumps down off the crate he's been sitting on.

“Nope,” he says, “but we can look for them together. I guess there are a few things I need to talk to Sam about, too.”

*****

It isn't as easy to find the Winchesters as Castiel had thought. He and Gabriel scour the ship, but the two brothers seem to have disappeared into thin air. Castiel begins to feel worried. There are plenty of places where one can hide aboard a ship, but why would the Winchesters want to?

“What are you doing?” a voice asks behind them, making them both jump and spin around. Balthazar is watching them curiously.

“Balthazar,” Castiel says, “have you seen Dean and Sam anywhere?”

“Your pretty friend and the cute giant?” Balthazar asks. “Yes, I saw them just moments ago. They were headed in the direction of the hangar bay, I believe. They looked as if they were in quite the hurry.”

Castiel exchanges a panicked look with Gabriel. Of course that's where they'd gone. Had they really expected that the Winchesters would just sit there and wait to be handed over to the authorities? Why wouldn't they try to escape? And now they might be gone already and Castiel would have wasted his final chance to talk to Dean.

He sets off at a run towards the hangar bay, with Gabriel hot on his heels. While he's running, a constant litany of _Please don't let it be too late_ keeps repeating inside Castiel's head. If Dean is really gone and Castiel didn't even get to say goodbye... But no, he can't even bear to think of it.

To Castiel's immense relief, it isn't too late. When he and Gabriel finally reach the hangar bay, they find Sam already in the longboat, while Dean is standing on the landing, handing over their bags. They both freeze when they see the cousins and the identical looks of guilt on their faces would be comical, if Castiel wasn't so furious. He stalks forward towards Dean, who actually takes a step back, looking worried.

“Whoa, Cas,” he says, “just let me explain.”

“Save it,” Castiel growls. “I don't want to hear it. I can't believe that you were just going to leave like that, without even telling me.”

“I was afraid you'd try to stop me,” Dean says. “Besides, I wasn't sure you even wanted to talk to me.”

“What do you mean?”

Dean sighs. He looks over at Sam, clearly communicating something with his eyes. Sam nods. Dean takes hold of Castiel's arm and drags him out into the corridor. “You've been avoiding me,” he says, once they're alone.

Castiel shakes his head. It's partly true, but it wasn't like he was hiding. “You could have come found me,” he says.

Dean bites his lip, looking almost nervous. “I wasn't sure you'd want to talk to me. I thought you were still mad at me.”

“Dean,” Castiel sighs, “you saved my life. And almost died yourself. Okay, so I'm still upset that you lied to me and used me, but we can work past that. I know who you are now and it's the same person that you've always been. It's the same man that I fell in love with.”

There, he said it. It wasn't easy, though. He can barely bring himself to look at Dean to see how he reacts. He's fairly sure that his feelings are reciprocated, but he can't be entirely certain. It is still possible that Dean was just amusing himself with him, that he likes Castiel, but isn't looking for anything serious. His worries are unnecessary, however. A slow, happy smile spreads across Dean's face.

“Yeah?” he says, sounding hopeful.

“Yes,” Castiel says firmly.

“Well,” Dean says, taking a step closer, “I guess I should tell you that I'm in love with you, too. I know you won't believe me, but I've never met anyone like you, Cas. This is going to sound stupid and clichéd, but you make me want to try to be a better man. More than that, you make me feel like I might actually succeed.”

Castiel shakes his head, knowing that there's a ridiculously happy smile on his face. “You are a good man, Dean. You just make bad decisions sometimes.”

Dean laughs. He's standing so close to Castiel that their feet are touching and he puts his hands on Castiel's hips. “Yeah,” he agrees. “I guess I do. Maybe you can help me with that.”

Castiel slides one arm around Dean's shoulders and the other around his waist, pulling them together. He leans his forehead against Dean's. “If you'll let me,” he says.

Dean nods slowly. “I will,” he says. They both know he's lying. Dean is too stubborn to let someone else make his decisions for him. But maybe, he'll at least be willing to listen Castiel's advice.

Dean is tilting his head, so their noses are no longer in the way, and presses their lips together. Castiel returns the kiss eagerly, opening his mouth to let their tongues tangle together. Dean's hands have moved backwards and downwards, and Castiel can't help but smile when he feels them squeeze almost playfully. Dean breaks their kiss with a frustrated groan. “I wish we had more time,” he says. “There are still so many things I want to do to you. But I guess that's something to look forward to.”

Castiel doesn't reply. Instead he chases Dean's mouth to steal another kiss. He means to keep it brief, but it soon becomes as deep as the first one. The feeling of Dean pressing up against him, solid and warm, is pure ecstasy. He just wishes that there weren't so many layers of clothes in the way, that he could feel Dean's skin against his own.

Once again, Dean is the one to break the kiss and this time, he forces Castiel to take a step back, so that there is some air between them. Castiel glares at him, making Dean laugh. “Trust me,” he says. “It pains me just as much as it pains you, but I have no choice. I've got to go. The longer we delay, the greater the chance that we'll be caught.”

“Can I come with you?” Castiel asks. He feels a brief pang of regret, thinking of his mother and his sister, but the idea of letting Dean go off without him is even more painful.

Dean shakes his head. “Cas,” he says. “Sam and I will be fugitives. We'll constantly be on the run, never able to stay in one place for long. We'll have to find a new ship and crew, and then...”

“And then what?” Castiel asks.

Dean shrugs. “We're pirates,” he says. “You know what that means. I can't ask you to give up your home and your family for something like that.”

“But I want to,” Castiel tells him. It isn't until he says it that he realizes how true it is. “Please, Dean! It's what I've always dreamed of.”

Dean shakes his head again, looking sad. “I can't, Cas,” he says. “At least not yet. You need to think about this, about everything that you'll be giving up. And you need to see your family again.”

“But what if I never see you again?” Castiel knows he's sounding desperate, but he doesn't care. After all that, Dean is still going to leave him.

“You will,” Dean promises. He leans over and places a soft, brief kiss on Castiel's lips. “In a year's time, on this date. I'll come to the harbor near your mother's old inn. Meet me there and if you still want to, I'll take you with me, then.”

“You promise?”

“I promise. One year from now. Will you wait for me there, Cas?”

Castiel nods. There's no doubt in his mind. It'll be a long year, but it'll give him a chance to say goodbye to his family. “What about Gabriel?” he asks suddenly.

Dean leans back and glances into the hangar bay. He grimaces. “Looks like he and Sam are a bit more impatient than we are,” he says. “I think you'd better go in and say goodbye. You won't be seeing him for a year, either.”

Sure enough, when Castiel enters the hangar bay, Gabriel is already in the longboat. He looks as if he's afraid that Castiel will try to stop him, but Castiel reassures him with a look. Dean moves up behind Castiel. He turns him around and gives him a final brief kiss, before climbing into the longboat. Sam and Gabriel start lowering the boat through the open hatch.

“One year, Cas,” Dean calls to him. “Don't forget!”

Castiel shakes his head. As if he could. “Don't get caught!” he calls back.

Dean just grins. The longboat has fully cleared the hatch now and Sam moves over to take the helm. Castiel watches as they slowly disappear from view. Then he sighs heavily and starts walking back up to the main deck. It's going to be a long year.


End file.
